


Sugar Daddy

by ClasslessTulip



Series: Random Arcana Smut [4]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Belly piercing, Body Modification, Crossdressing, Crying, Cum Play, Frottage, Genital Piercing, M/M, Men in Lingere, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Play, Piercings, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Tattoos, Tongue Piercings, University, collaring, cum swapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-09-24 12:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClasslessTulip/pseuds/ClasslessTulip
Summary: Getting fucked over by his ex-girlfriend, Julian need's to come up with a lot of money in three days, or face eviction. A sarcastic classmates solution to get a "Sugar Daddy" may just be what a poor college student needs...He hopes he's not in the Mafia.





	1. Getting fucked over? Why not just get fucked, instead?

**Author's Note:**

> Every fandom needs a SugarBaby AU. I am here to deliver.

     The small breakfast nook was covered in open envelopes and past-due bills. Over in one corner was a Notice of Eviction. In his hand his phone buzzed, voicemail full.

    Julian ran his free hand through his hair. Ever since his girlfriend dumped him and made off with his funds, things have gone downhill. First, his phone had to be replaced. Then, someone broke into his flat and made off with his school-issued laptop. Despite a police report and some camera evidence, he was forced to buy a new one.

    Then the calls started. Prew, the wench, had also racked up his credit cards and opened up others in his name. In literal days, he has acquired nearly £30,000 in additional debt. On top of that, his lab fees are due, and he has to stay on top of them, scholarships or not.

    (Mama was so proud that he got into Cambridge. He should have never left Kursk.)

    Now, being faced with homelessness on top of it (because Prew never paid the damn RENT when he gave it to her!), he needs to come up with nearly £5,000 in three days. Wracking his brain, he applied to dozens of ad's. He made a decent amount of money working at a little dive bar, but there is no way he can make that much in tips even if he pulled triples.

    He tossed his new (used) phone on the table, growling into his hands as the phone rang again. He hasn't slept in days, he got chewed out by the Ward Lead yesterday, Dr. Satrinava sent him home after a dementia patient _vomited_ all over him, and he thinks his Professor of Epidemiology wants to wear his skin like a funny hat.

    One of his classmates had laughed at him as he vented, saying it sounded like he needed a ‘sugar daddy’. It took him a moment to translate _that,_ and he had scoffed. Now though…

    Swallowing his pride, he walked over to his shabby couch, opened his laptop, and started searching.

***

    Face fuchsia, he typed a few more things before hitting ‘Enter’. Covering his face, he didn't look up until the chime of his account activation whispered passed.

    Spending a few hours searching and reviewing, Julian had settled on _Sugar and Sting._ It specialized in ‘Sugar Babies’ (and **_boy_ ** does that term make his stomach roll) with a taste of BDSM. It also had a rating system, allowing the ‘Babies’ to rate their ‘Daddy’ or ‘Mama’. What really cinched the deal was a warning list, of both ‘Babies’ and ‘Parents’ who were toxic.

    (Turns out Prew is on that list. He wishes he knew that before taking up with her.)

    Creating an account was a more arduous process than he thought. Things like a handle (HotDoc), sex (male), age (24), gender (uh, male?), orientation ( _*blush*_ everyone), height (6’4”), weight (180lbs-ish), physique ( _*frowns*_ beanpole), ethnicity (Russian)...kinks (um, a lot)...it went on and on. Clicking certain answers spawned more questions. Some asked for very **specific** measurements.

    (He was mortified. He's never measured his cock, but the things you'll do when your hard up for money…)

    The last thing he did was upload a profile pic. He had been embarrassed, the shitty camera in his phone being all he had. The only comfort he had was knowing he wasn't the only one with a subpar photo. Selecting the best one out of over a dozen selfies, he crossed his fingers and hoped for the best, knowing he may get nowhere because he looks like a strung-out motorhead.

    (Mama can say otherwise, but he's never liked his hooded eyes or cut cheekbones. They make him look sick.)

    Looking at the clock, he shut off his laptop before heading to his bedroom. He has an early day ahead of him, and staying up worrying won't solve anything.

***

    Groaning, he kicked his door shut behind him. Tossing his keys on the table, an exhausted Doctor-in-training shuffled over to his refrigerator, wincing as his exploration revealed a few water bottles and a Tupperware container of dubious origin. Closing it with a sigh, he dug around a cupboard, finding a single cup noodle. Boiling the kettle, he booted up his laptop.

    Slumping onto the couch, he started eating as he waited for his email to finish loading. Looking down briefly, he glanced at his notifications. Seeing how many unread messages he had he froze.

     _Unread: 153_

_Opened: 27_

_Spam: 79_

    Gulping, he started browsing. Mixed into the usual guff were nearly 65 messages, all from _Sugar and Sting._ Most of them were the same thing: Mama's and Daddy's messaging him, wanting to get to know him. A few were about his new account, one a newsletter. One that really stood out was about his banking account. Part of his profile was a ‘Sugar’ button, allowing prospective ‘Parents’ to transfer money into a Baby's account. Following the link, Julian choked.

    £10,000 was in his account.

    Opening his bank's app confirmed it: since last night, eight different transfers were done, the largest being £5,000. Logging into _SnS_ fully, he got a list of who gave what. There were a few £500, a couple that were less. The bulk came from three. Clicking their handles pulled up their profiles and messages to him in a pop-up.

    GoatBoy69 was crossed off the list immediately. He wanted Julian to piss all over him as he gets railed by his boyfriend. Reading that with his own two eyes made Julian want to vanish into the ether.

    (He made a mental note to block any profiles that listed ‘pissparty.com’ as an alternative hangout.)

    Qween had piqued his interest, but what she was looking for personality-wise he couldn't give her. Wanting to have someone to care for is admirable, but he just couldn't live passively. He **wants** to be a Doctor, he **wants** to be independent, and he **can't** just lounge around a mansion being waited on hand and foot until she tires of him.

    The one to ‘gift’ him the majority of his newfound wealth was named NightmareFuel. Just the name _alone_ is a warning. Bringing up the profile, his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Kink-wise, they had a lot of overlap. This alone would ensure some sort of chemistry. Reading more, he saw that he had left a long term Daddy/Baby relationship nearly a month ago. Stability being a positive, he took a chance and responded.

***

    Sitting on his bed, Julian drummed his fingers. Before him was a package, simple and brown. There was no shipping info because it had been **_chauffeured_ ** to his front door.

    (The driver was dressed all in sleek black, uniform and long wool coat probably costing more than what Julian makes in a month.)

    Despite the foreboding name, NightmareFuel was an absolute gentleman. Offering to go at Julian's pace, he proposed an exchange of saucy pictures and risqué poses. In the box should be a camera and some sort of prop, most likely an outfit. Sending Fuel a few bits of ‘candy’ will net Julian a glimpse of the ‘goods’ he'll eventually be bouncing on.

    Deciding it was now or never, he slid the top off the box. Pushing aside packing, he stuttered. Reminding himself to breath, he gently picked up the camera.

    In his hands was a Nikon D5 DSLR. The only reason he knew that was because Prew is a photography major and had been thirsting after this model for _months._ The camera itself, not including the lenses, was over $6,000 USD. Fishing around revealed several macro and micro lenses, a tripod, a remote clicker, carry case, and a few more odds and ends.

    Whoever this guy is, he's not messing around. He wants pictures? Julian will serve him _looks._ Worse comes to worse, he can pawn the set and pay off a few bills. Digging around further, nothing else was found aside from a single card.

     _Sweetheart,_

_I figured for an Introduction, we start off short and sweet. While I think you would look delicious in lace, a simple vanilla sampler would be a nice appetizer._

_Make Daddy Proud_

    Julian felt himself relax a bit. Vanilla is nice. Vanilla is easy. He can do vanilla.

    Plugging in the camera to charge, he started reading the manual. An hour later he ducked into the shower. In the cloud of steam he started to hype himself up. Washing out his conditioner he rinsed himself off one last time before stepping out. Wiping off his foggy mirror, he twisted his head this way and that. Not wanting to take a chance, he quickly shaved. Looking down his long and lanky body, he didn't find much he could change. In his profile he listed he was a redhead with moderate body hair. If Fuel doesn't like that, well, it's not like it was hidden. Doing some light manscaping, he decided he put everything off for long enough.

    Heading back to his room, he hooked up the camera to his laptop. Setting up the tripod, he lounged nude on the covers as he used the clicker to change the zoom and focus, eyes glued to his laptop screen, watching what happened as he got used to how everything functioned.

    Finally satisfied with the settings, he decided to start off simple. He rolled onto his stomach, lying width-wise across the bed. He made sure to stretch out as far as he could, emphasizing his long legs. Pillowing his face on his bicep, he hooked a foot over the back of a dangling leg before looking at the camera. Finger twitching, he could hear the faint _‘shik’_ of the shutter going off. Adjusting his pose somewhat, another photo was taken. A few more changes of pose later, and he decided he had enough to send. Sitting up, he twisted, not realizing mid-twist his finger had slipped.

    Sliding to the side of the bed, he heard a rapping on his window. Looking up, he smiled wide. Leaning over, he undid the latch, allowing a raven to hop onto the bookshelf just below. Giving a loud _‘CAW!’,_ the bird perched on his curled wrist.

    “Hey, Malak. No time long see? Wait! Long time no see. How's my boy been?”, he scratched the back of the birds head, grinning at the happy grumble he got in return.

    (Prew had _hated_ Malak. Wanted him gone. It had been a bone of contention between them, one that should have been a warning sign.)

    Malak fluttered onto his shoulder, starting to preen his hair. He let out the occasional raspy chirp as he worked, sounding unhappy with how Julian's hair decided to lay. Chuckling lightly, Julian stood, coming around to the laptop. With a few clicks, he had ended the connection and pulled the files into a folder. Not thinking too much about the file-size (this being a HD camera and all), he sent the package to Fuel over _SnS's_ messaging program. Leaving a note about his plans for the day, he stated he'll be on later in the evening.

    Putting everything away and getting dressed, Julian stepped out to pay his back rent and do some much needed grocery shopping. He may just celebrate his pornographic gains with some curry takeaway for dinner.

    Provided he doesn't have a mental breakdown about essentially becoming a prostitute to pay the bills his ex left him with, of course.

***

    Having fun putting away a full load of groceries, he put a large steak in a bag to marinade for tomorrow. Before plopping onto his couch, he sliced up some nibbles for Malak, leaving it near a cracked window. Taking a few bites of his chicken tikka, he scrolled through Netflix for some entertainment.

    Remembering his photo-shoot, Julian logged into _SnS,_ checking his messages. He had a few other Parents drop some cash on him, one or two asking to chat. He had nothing back from Fuel yet, but didn't think much of it. Switching back to Netflix, he selected a random sci-fi movie to watch.

    Half an hour later, a chime sounded from his phone. Pausing the movie, he opened his notifications. Eyes bulging, he choked down a spit-take.

     **_Bank of London:_ **

**** _Transfer of: £7,500.00 to CHKING Successful._

    Opening the app, he clicked the transaction, trying to get more details. The only thing revealed was that the transaction originated from a “Roman Financial”, and was a direct deposit. Hopping back into _SnS,_ he saw a message from Fuel.

     _Sweetheart,_

_That was lovely! I especially loved your smile. You should do it more often, it suits you._

_Here's my end of the bargain. You may want to put anything you're holding down. I've been told I can have an effect on others ;)_

     _NF_

    Attached was a single picture. Doing as Fuel suggested, Julian made sure to empty his hands and lap. While waiting for the file to download, he tried to recall which photo's he smiled in. Hearing a familiar chime he looked at his screen-oh, Holy Mother of God, Jesus Christ, and God Damn! Julian's pupils went wide, his breath caught, and his mouth started to water. As his eyes moved across the screen, he could feel his sweatpants get tight and his blood run hot.

    It was a portrait, cropped from just below the eyes to under the pelvis. A man with pale olive skin, a tumble of black curls, and a body looking to be carved by Michelangelo was posed. A tight black tank top was pushed up over his pectorals, hooked over his thumbs, revealing hard abs and pierced nipples. In his nose was a septum piercing, under it a large, wide grin. Fuel had his tongue stuck out and curled, it being pierced as well. All over his chest were tattoos, transitioning into two full sleeves and ink hugging his sides. A belly ring was nestled just over the start of a thick treasure trail. And below that…

    ...below that was a thick, juicy dick. Fully erect, it was held in place by Fuel's underwear band. He had shoved his trousers down to the tops of his thighs, proving that yes, Leg Day is adhered to. Going up the shaft was a Jacob's Ladder, a single central dydoe nuzzling under the head. The tip just tickled his belly button, and was _thick_ from start to finish. To frame everything was a well groomed pubic patch.

    Julian had to swallow, mouth watering more. It's been so _long_ since he's been pushed onto his knees and had cock shoved down his throat. Hell, it's been a long time since he had a good, hard fuck. He had been debating leaving Prew due to dwindling chemistry for the last few weeks before she decided for them.

    He moaned, not realizing he had palmed himself until he squeezed. At the tip of a delicious digital dick was a small bead of precum. Everything, from the faintest nick to each individual pubic hair to the gleam of that speck of salty spunk, was displayed in glorious HD. Julian swears he should be able to lick slick skin through the screen. Deciding to go with it, he pushed down his sweatpants, groaning in relief as he fisted himself properly. Licking his palm, he gripped the base of his shaft before pulling up to his tip. Hand going back down, he leaned back and spread his legs, settling in for a nice, good wank. As his fist moved up and down, he added a little twist to his head at random. Eventually his free hand moved between his legs, fingers pressing in on his perineum. Both hands speeding up, he slowly sunk over to his side. Kicking off the pants, he rest his head on the couch arm while wiggling onto his back with one leg hooking over the couch back as the other foot sat flat on the floor, spread wide. As his arms moved, his shirt rode up, barring his belly and chest to the world as he gasped, heaved, and moaned. A small puddle of cum dripped into and covered the fine, red hairs of his stomach, a line of jizz dripping from a wet head downwards.

    Needing more satisfaction, he rifled between the cushions, looking for the tube of lube hidden there. Crowing in victory, he squirted some over his throbbing dick and his fingers before tossing it onto his coffee table. Moaning in satisfaction at the new ease he could move his fist, it turned into a low groan as he slipped his other hand back between his legs, burrowing a finger between his cheeks and then inside. A few thrusts and wiggles later and it was joined by a second digit. He was panting by this point, tongue wetting his lips as his mind ran rampant.

    Fuck, Fuel had a perfect body. He could so _easily_ hold him down with those **strong** arms, and his thighs! Julian wants them wrapped around his head, hard muscle holding his face in place as that _thick_ **_, delicious_ ** cock is rammed down his throat, making him choke on it! And the piercings! He's never slept with a man who had hardware, and trying to imagine what it would feel like was driving him mad. Would the metal be hot? Cold? Slide inside him easily, or get caught and **_TUG!_ ** on his rim as he's fucked into submission?

    (He wants _sooooo_ **_bad_ ** to have Fuel cum all over his face. And his mouth. And his chest. Just, spunk all over him!)

    He jerked hard with a cry. As his fingers brushed his prostate, a vision of him folded over a desk, knees near his ears as he gets fucking **punished** with a hard dick and big hands pinning him in place flashed through his mind.

    With a few more sharp breaths, Julian came with a bitten-back shout as he imagined getting filled to dripping with cum. A coil he hadn't felt inside him released as he came, thick ropes of cum decorating his abdomen.

    After a few minutes to catch his breath, he wiped his hands off on a napkin. Feeling bold, he grabbed his phone. Using the front facing camera he took a short video. Scanning it from his flushed face to his messy belly, he logged in and sent it to Fuel. With a simple message of _‘How very much DARE you, sir!’,_ he then logged back out. Sitting up, he grimaced as his shirt fell back down, covering the cooling sticky mess just above his groin. Stumbling over to his bathroom, he hopped into his shower long enough to wash off the jizz and lube he was smothered in.

    Dressing in fresh clothes, he put away his chicken tikka. Grabbing a bottle of water, he shut down his laptop. Heading into his bedroom, he checked his alarm before climbing into bed. Setting a backup alarm on his phone, he noticed a new email from _SnS._ Opening it showed a video. Playing it, he groaned again. If he hadn't just had a good, satisfying orgasm, he would have been at attention.

    The message only had a simple _‘ >:D’, _ before a short clip started, centered on the spread legs and naked groin of, presumably, NightmareFuel. A long fingered hand squeezed a thick gob of cum from a wet and shiny helm, light glinting off the hardware running up the shaft's underside. A few more passes and Julian could faintly hear a deep gasp as thick, pearly jizz shot out, covering the fist wrapped around a thick dick. Julian's mouth watered again and his tongue tingled, wanting so **_badly_ ** to lick that salty slick up and slurp it down.

    (Julian is going to try to expedite a meeting: that cum looks _divine._ He craves that liquid.)

    After a few moments and passes, he could hear a shaky inhale before a deep chuckle rolled out. _‘Sweet dreams, sweetheart.’_ Fighting himself to not re-watch and definitely have to jerk it **again,** Julian decisively set his phone aside and rolled over.

    He needs to ride that dick. Badly.

***

    Today is a good day, and he hopes to keep the momentum rolling.

    After finishing his morning rota, Julian had a few hours to kill before his night shift. Calling up a few of the credit card companies, he explained what happened. Lucky for him, Prew was stupid enough to have opened up some accounts as a joint one. This enabled her to have a separate card linked to the account. The first rep he spoke to was able to track everything and clear him of the debt. After confirming her mailing address on the account (she literally **gave** them everything), Julian was removed from it and all bills (and issues) will now go to her address.

    Two others did the same. However, some of the new accounts were doing their damnedest to make everything stick. One devolved into a shouting match, with him stating to look at the camera's in the stores for proof it was not him. Getting passed up the line, someone with brains put the account under investigation and will call him back within 24 hours.

    Things with the letting office got cleared up as well. While they could do nothing about his missing money, one of the agents had heard about Prew's antics. Currently, he's going through camera footage, looking for things to compile for Julian to bring a suit against her. At the same time, a notation was made to NOT follow any of her requests and alert Julian immediately if she tried anything.

***

    Julian lied: things were NOT going well.

    Sitting in one of the back storerooms, he held an ice pack to his jaw. He was telling his boss what happened as they waited for one of the Bobbie's to take his statement.

    His shift at _The Rowdy Raven_ had started off well. Stocked the bar, helped Alfie bring up supplies, serve drinks, chat with the regs. All and all, a normal night. Once 1am rolled around, that's when things start to get weird. A new guy had one too many and didn't like Julian cutting him off. After slurring something along the lines of _‘go back to your country, ye retarded ruskie!’,_ the guy leapt over the bar. A bit of a scuffle and one lucky swing later, one of the other patrons helped Julian toss the sloshed bastard.

    Considering the amount of broken glassware as a result, Biggles decided to call the fuzz. Getting everything straightened out only took about 20 minutes, and Julian wound up with a few extra ‘sympathy’ tips. Helping Alfie clean up the broken glass, Julian was back to slinging drinks. Things began to wind down, and soon 3am came with Last Call. Helping shuffle out the last few guys who were totally blotto, Julian and Alfie started to straighten up as Biggles did the daily's. After prepping for day shift, Julian left the bar with a wave.

    Hearing a chime from his phone, he pulled it out. Stopping at a crossing he opened his message. Turns out Dr. Satrinava is giving him the next few days off, she came down with the flu that's been going around. They'll be doing their tour later in the week instead.

    Getting ready to slide the phone away, another chime came through, this time from Biggles. Turns out, Biggles won't need him tomorrow due to his interviewing a new bartender. Three guys behind the bar is a bit tight, four would be insane. Julian shot back a quick _‘Thanks!’_ after doing a mental tally of his finances.

    The next three days are going to be absolutely free. No work, no school, no rota. It's been a long, _long time_ since he's had two days off together, let alone three.

    He changed his mind. Things are going well again.

***

    Waving to the desk guard, Julian shut his mailbox before heading back upstairs. In his hands was a flat, rectangular box. Jiggling it lightly, he could hear and feel something shift. It wasn't heavy, so that ruled out more electronics, and the shifting was quiet. Clothes, maybe?

    Shutting his door, he flopped onto his couch before shooting back up and heading to the kitchen. Putting the kettle on, he retrieved his phone from his bedroom before re-flopping. Checking the posting address was unhelpful, showing a box address from Oxford. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he tore into it like a kid on Christmas.

    Pushing aside some black crepe paper, he tossed the ‘goodies’ with a breathless shriek. Squirreling himself on the sofa, he leaned as far away from _that_ **_thing_ ** as possible. Spotting a card similar to his previous delivery, he extended his arm to the ground. Eyes glued to _that_ **_thing,_ ** his fingers fumbled about before grasping thick card-stock. Snatching it, he settled himself before reading it.

     _Sweetheart,_

 _You've really unleashed a Pandora's Box, haven't you? Naughty boy, sending me that_ **_tempestuous_ ** _video and no way to relieve myself. My hand is a poor substitute for your sweet mouth and you know it!_

 _Now, as a way to make up for leaving me hard and wanting, I think a bit more candy is in order. If you want to make me_ **_really_ ** _happy, fucking destroy my present._

_Don't leave Daddy waiting_

    Gulping, Julian slowly turned back to the pile of **stuff** on the ground. Taking a deep breath, he stood and scooped up the pile of silk before going into his bedroom. Shutting the door, he turned on the light before separating the pile of fabric. Getting everything sorted, his face went brick red.

    Lingerie. Fuel sent him fucking **_lingerie!_ **

    For his legs was a set of sheer black stockings. Around the top was a thick band of clingy, scalloped lace. The panties (PANTIES!) were dual colored with a thick thong-back. The same black lace was used for the straps and string, with the front being a solid, shiny new penny color. Finishing off the ensemble was the garter belt. Mimicking a corset, it was the same copper color as the panties. Two strips of that same scalloped lace framed the central panel of the ‘corset’, along with a small lace medallion. Dangling from the front and back of the belt were two sets of garter clips.

    Trying to put it off for as long as possible, he set up his laptop and camera. The editing program was giving him some tish when he found out he could record video as well. Making a note to play around with that later, he got everything running and tested. Clicker in hand, he gave a **hard** look to his new ‘outfit’.

    Deciding it's either now or never, Julian stripped. Remembering Prew bitching about runs in her stockings, he scrunched up the sheer and silky fabric until the footie before slipping it on and pulling up. Walking the fabric up his legs, the lace bands snapped into place around his mid-thigh. Smoothing the scallops into place, he next fought with the faux-corset. Getting the slippery piece in place before doing the closure, he carefully spun it into the correct position. A bit more futzing and he finally had it in place under his ribs but above his hips.

    (He's always been self-conscious about his cinched waist. Prew constantly poked fun at his ‘girly’ hips.)

    Now for the **_panties._ ** Grabbing the frankly _tiny_ scrap of fabric, he skimmed it up his legs quite far before they started to catch on his thighs. Shifting the clips so they wouldn't get caught, he started tugging them up his hips-

    -oh. **_Ooohhh!_ ** These feel **nice.** The panties were a bit more roomy than expected, and the lace must be genuine because it was soft and not scratchy. Only some minor fiddling was needed to get the thong strap to sit, and a shimmy revealed that the strip of lace going up his cleft would frame the tops of his buttocks nicely.

    What was really, _really_ nice was the satin of the panty around his cock. It had to be genuine silk, there was no other fabric that he could name that was this soft and **_slick._ ** He moaned quietly as he shifted, the cool kiss of silk around his cock shooting straight to his core. It felt like angel wings were kissing his cock and balls. Each move he made only got him harder.

    Collapsing back onto his bed he leaned back on his arms, legs spread wide as he bit his lip. Pressing the ‘Automatic’ button, he could hear the camera start going off once every three seconds.

    After a few static, pinup poses, Julian said fuck it and got to _work._ He and Fuel already exchanged naughty videos, whats another one? Setting the camera to record video, he propped himself up on his pillows before palming himself. Breath hitching, he let out a broken _‘Ah!’_ at the feel of cool satin gripping his shaft. Rubbing the balls of his palm up and down, he reached full hardness in record time. Soon, his head was poking past the band. Flicking it, his other hand clawed and scratched up and down his thigh. Fingernails caught in satin and lace before puncturing through the fabric as he squeezed his silk-covered erection. Starting to pump himself, he let out a low moan before panting. Remembering the sight of Fuel's thick cock and how it would probably feel **so** **_gooood,_ ** he let out a low cry. Biting his knuckle as he worked himself over, he had to fight to not babble. Leaning back more, he arched into his fist, hand wet from the amount of cum that had soaked into his panties. Feeling _dirty_ **,** his other hand started roaming his body. One moment tweaking a nipple, the next ripping through his stockings. Soon, only a few taught scraps of material were attached to the lace bands.

    Nearing the end, both hands started to work his cock. By this point, not only were the panties sopping wet, but his thighs were slick, too. He shivered, feeling the start of his thong strap just behind his scrotum tickle with wetness. Wetting two fingers with a thick layer of saliva, he pushed the fabric aside and slid one digit inside himself. A few pumps and the second one joined. Brushing his prostate, one heel dug into his mattress, rocking him back and forth as the other curled up and out, putting his hungry ass on display.

    After a few more sloppy-sounding thrust and panting cries, Julian curled his fingers up and hard. Momentarily freezing, his jaw dropped as he let out a loud, broken shout.  His hand started pulling upon his slick dick hard and fast as he came, cock spewing hot spunk all over his hand, stomach, and up his chest. The additional slick made his last few tugs easier, and he let go after one last hard pull ending with a twist just under his now-sensitive head.

    Sliding down, all Julian could do was lay there and pant. That was the most satisfying orgasm he's had in years, if not his life. If it's this good just recording for Fuel, how good would the real thing be?

***

    He would have fallen asleep if not for the disgusting feel of drying cum. Waiting for his legs to stop shaking, he wiped his hands off as best he could on his stockings. Stumbling to the camera set-up, he stopped the recording. Gasping as an over-sensitive cock was brushed with wet silk, Julian did a sloppy edit before sending everything over to Fuel.

    Starting the shower, he peeled off his outfit. Holding it up, he felt a well of satisfaction before tossing it to the side. Fuel wanted the outfit destroyed? Done. There was no salvaging the torn stockings, and with the amount of cum he sprayed all over himself, so too were the panties and belt. The sheer amount of sticky, salty mess would warp and stain the fabric beyond repair.

    (He made a mental note to wash it. Just in case Fuel wants him to mail it back and use it for wank material.)

    Taking time to wash properly, Julian dressed in the softest lounge-wear he had. Towel around his shoulders, he pulled out a cast-iron pan. Getting the fixings for a skillet steak and foil-packet redskins he got to cooking. Pulling out the steak (which he left to marinade for a few days because why not?), he left it on the counter to warm to room temperature. Slicing the potatoes, he tossed them with some melted butter and herbs before sealing and tossing them in the oven. He took his time cleaning up the potato prep, wanting to give the redskins time to cook before he did up the steak. Once heating his skillet to smoking, he dropped a gob of butter before tonging in his cut. 10 minutes later, he was sitting on the couch, meal in hand as he looked for a movie.

    A film and a half later, and a loud chime pulled Julian from his doze. Snorting to attention, he picked up his phone, looking at his notifications. Seeing one from his bank, he opened it.

    And dropped his phone from frozen fingers.

**_Bank of London:_ **

**** _Transfer of: £15,000.00 to CHKING Successful_

    £15,000. _£15,000._ **_£15,000!_ **

    Holy fucking shit. Over the course of like, a week, Fuel has dropped nearly £30,000 on him. How can this guy afford to do this? And for such little return? From popping into _SnS's_ message boards, most Babies get this amount over the course of a year. Others brag about getting £50k. Fuel is blowing that all out of the water.

    Is he a mobster?

    He's a mobster. Fuel is in the Mafia, and one day Julian is going to wake up with a decapitated horse head next to him in bed because he's spreading it for a local Don.

    (Not that he's actually given up the goods. Yet.)

    Another chime from his phone cut through his panic attack. Seeing a notification from _SnS,_ he logged in. Flicking to his mailbox, he clicked his latest message from Fuel (after deleting another message from GoatBoy. Find someone else to piss on you, Skeezer.)

     _Sweetheart,_

 _You little slut! I have half a mind to find you and tan your hide. Seeing the pictures was lovely, but video? How dirty! How_ **_filthy!_ **

_Here's my number._

_Waiting to hear from my cumslut,_

_NF_

    Seeing the international number, Julian plugged it into his phone. Hearing another chime, he saw another message from Fuel. Opening it got him a full-frontal selfie.

    Fuel must be one of those guys who works out in little to no clothing. All he had on was a pair of the tiniest, _skimpiest_ skin-tight spandex shorts Julian has ever seen. He was standing in front of a mirror, the background a typical gym. Just behind him was a squat rack, several disk weights loaded on each end.

    He _glistened_ with sweat. Julian must have excellent timing with his messages. Beads of salty moisture sparkled in the phone flash, clinging to flush skin. Fuel had his shoulders back and hips cocked, putting his torso on display. A muscled chest, slightly tapered waist and washboard abs…

    And his _legs._ Long and muscled (with the outer thighs tattooed as well), they looked better than Julian thought they would. The man could easily squish a watermelon between his thighs. And his calves! Thick at the swell just under the knee, flowing down into strong ankles and large feet…

    Just... _unf!_

    Dragging his eyes back up, his eyes glued themselves to Fuels face.

    Wait. Face? Oh Lord above, he sent a pic with his face!

    Leaning in, Julian expanded the picture, wanting to see more. What's his eye color? Does he have facial hair? Is he handsome?

    He was **_not_ ** disappointed. Fuel had a somewhat swarthy complexion, with eyes so dark they were nearly black, set under bold black eyebrows. His eyes were deep-set, with pronounced cheekbones that sloped into an angled jawline that came to a rounded-off point. He had a generous, full mouth that looked like it can easily worry you, and made you worry even more when he opened it. He had dimples on either cheek, one more pronounced than the other. His nose was a little on the long side but straight and well defined. To top it all off was a _thick_ head of hair. Large black curls that tumbled down and around, landing somewhere around his lower back.

    Zooming back out, he looked about the picture more. Fuel must have his own gym, otherwise he wouldn't be so scantily clad. It was well lit, and Julian could recognize a few well-known brands among the equipment. The start of a stretching bar was reflected off the side, and a bit further back…

    DOGS! Fuel has two big, fluffy dogs! Ovcharka Bear dogs!

    Throwing caution to the wind, Julian called. His call rang thru a few times before it was picked up.

     _“Hello-?”_

    “Can I pet your dogs!?”

***

    After a few minutes of confusion (in which Fuel was wondering what kind of yahoo would call random strangers asking to pet their dogs), voice to voice introductions were made. Julian had gone redder than red when the other had laughed at him.

    He hadn't meant to kill the mood, it's just he hasn't seen that type of dog since his last trip home. His Uncle breeds them, and got a Commendation from the Kremlin for his hard work _‘Preserving an important part of Russian History and Heritage’._ He used to sneak into the kennels as a child and fall asleep in a pile of puppies.

    A wave of homesickness fell over him. Has it really been three years since he last came home?

     _“You still there, babe?”_

    Julian jerked. “Ah, yes! Sorry. Just, taking a walk down memory lane. My Uncle breeds Ovcharka's and, um, I just-” he sighed. “I just haven't been home for a couple years. Kursk is a long way off.”

     _“Hmmmmmm…”_

    Fuel has a nice voice. Deep and rumbly. It sounds like it would be perfect for opera. Julian could easily see himself drifting off, cheek pillowed on a firm chest as Fuel spoke.

     _“I'll be out for a few days next week. A speaking engagement.”_ His voice dropped lower, becoming a rolling purr, _“Want to get together when I get back?”_

    Julian's breath hitched. He could hear the other chuckle, his sound of want picked up by the speaker.

    “Um, yes. Yes I would.”

     _“Have any special requests?”_ Fuel's smile was evident through his tone.

    “...can you, um. I'd like...oh this is _embarrassing!”_ Julian covered his eyes, cheeks bright red. He could hear Fuel chuckling in sadistic amusement.

     _“How about I just surprise you-”_

    “Oh god yes!” Julian's hand fairly whistled, slapping over his mouth. He had sounded too desperate when he said that! What would Fuel think?

    Fuel got quiet. _“Sounds like Sweetheart hasn't been taken care of for some time. I'll need to rectify that.”_ The sounds of bare feet on wood could be heard, along with the faint clicks of claws. _“Mmmmm. I'll be leaving tomorrow. Talks will be for a few days. I like having the day after I get home to myself, travel turns me into a bear. Will you be free Tuesday?”_

    Julian did some mental math. After a few moments of flipping between schedules, he made a quiet sound of disagreement. “Unfortunately, I have classes and my rota that day. Maybe Wednesday?”

     _“It's a date. I'll text you with details in a day or so. Sweet dreams.”_

***

    The bar was _packed._ Julian hates Conference Season. Every year at this time, Cambridge becomes host to dozens of conferences, debates, meetings, and any other word on can think of to denote a _‘gathering of people for academic purposes’._ For some reason, a lot of the visiting eggheads like _The Rowdy Raven._ If Julian didn't know better, he would think its because these people enjoy fighting with their fists just as much as with words.

    (Don't get him started about the scuffle between the archeological anthropology taxonomist’ from last year. Who knew primate remains could be so controversial?)

    So far, everything was going smoothly. The pub was full to bursting, with the bar going three deep. Julian and Alfie were slinging drinks like their lives depended on it. Biggles was in the kitchen, helping Cookie keep up with the food orders. Brinnie, the newest bartender, was reduced to till girl. Already she had to do three drops. Lucky for the bussers and dishwasher, most patrons were good with dropping off their used dishes in tubs placed around the room, otherwise the pub would be going to pot.

    Pouring a pint, Julian could make out the start of raised voices. It was coming from the corner where a bunch of the English Fiction Historians had holed up in. Making a note to keep an eye out, he turned to start making a Mind Eraser when he distinctly heard _‘Poe’._

    Please, for the love of a just and merciful God, **_please_ ** don't bring up the Orangutan. Do NOT bring that up, please!

    “BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ORANGUTAN?”

     _Ffffuuuuckkkkk..._ why? Just why?

    Wiping his hands off on a towel, Julian left the bar pen. Quickly weaving his way over, he was only a few feet away when a old man stood up, bow tie twisted and coke-bottle glasses fogging up. Seeing his mouth open, Julian prepared himself.

     **“WE! DO NOT! TALK ABOUT! THE ORANGUTAN!”**

     _“Aye, feck off, ya old cunts!”_ A pint glass spun through the air. Catching it, Julian continued to the back table, seeing Alfie head over towards where the glass came from.

    “Evening, gentleman! Nice night we're having, yes?” A round of slurred agreement. “Well, I couldn't happen but to overhear a spot of disagreement. Now,” Julian clapped his hands, smiling, “I would hate to kick out you gents for getting too loud. It's not often you types get to really unwind, ya?” More agreements, one man nodding so hard he spilled his drink. “Well, if we could tone it down a smidge, I bet you boys could enjoy quite a few more drinks before heading home to your misses! Think we can do that?” Even more, louder agreements. “Excellent! Hope you have a nice night!”

    Situation diffused, Julian returned to the bullpen. After another hour of taking orders and pulling drinks, the bar started to clear. Soon, most of the remaining crowd was the usual regulars. Taking advantage of the lull, he started to clean and restock the bar.

    Shortly after, a new guy sat down. Finishing up with his current customer, Julian moseyed on over. “Welcome! What can I get you?” When the other looked up, both sported shocked faces.

    “Fuel!?” He has the same distinct septum piercing and long black hair. It _has_ to be him.

    “Sweetheart?”

    Oh sweet baby Jesus, he sounds even better than before. Julian flushed, remembering what happened a few nights ago. The other slowly smirked, realizing where the other's mind went. “Well now, this is quite the bit of serendipity. And I was just thinking of you! I'll take a whiskey, neat. Have any Dew?”

    “Oh, um, yes-”, Julian cleared his throat, voice breaking. Turning back, he did his best to ignore the snicker he got as he searched for an open bottle. Quickly pouring the shot, he slid it towards the other man. “Would you like to pay for each as it comes, or start a tab? You'll need to put something down for the hold.”

    “I'll do a tab an’ tip,” Fuel sipped his drink as he pulled a crisp £100 note from his inner-coat pocket. Sliding it along the bar, their fingers brushed briefly. “Wasn't expecting to see you here. I was in town for a conference and wanted a place that doesn't water down the drinks. Have to say, this is making my night.”

***

    Things started to pick up again, sadly separating Julian from Fuel. The only time either could really talk to the other was to do an order. Fuel kept up his requests of whiskeys. Each refill he got, he slipped another £100 under his glass. Fuel was quite the drinker, with the notes soon spreading out in a fan under his glassware. Alfie saw what was going on and spread word to the other employees. Now it was routine for one of the other bartenders to nip behind Julian, glancing at his tip pile under the pretense of _‘oh, just need to get a few bottles, don't mind me!’_

    Julian just got redder and redder, and Fuel's smirk got larger and larger. Alfie tried to get in on the tip action at one point, but got the hint when Fuel waived off the refilled glass. With a lecherous grin towards a blushing redhead, Alfie wandered back over to his section.

    Things got interesting when Brinnie tried to pull a fast one. Julian couldn't really blame her for trying, Fuel was tipping **good.** He's also an attractive man. So, it was no surprise when Brinnie wandered into the supply cellar, fixed up her hair, fluffed her tits and pulled down her shirt before coming back up the stairs with a noticeable sway in her step. Taking advantage of Julian being busy pulling a 8-top's worth of pints, she leaned on the bar in front of Fuel, shoulders back and chest out.

    “Julie's gonna be busy for a few. Would you like a refill?” Julian swears he could hear her flutter her lashes.

    (He'll admit, he's kind of worried; Brinnie is beautiful. Julian can't hold a candle to her looks.)

    “Nah, girlie. I'm good. I can wait.”

    “Are you sure? It's no problem at all! Wouldn't want to leave you...thirsty,” her fingers walked across polished bar top to wrap around an empty tumbler. Before she could finish grasping heavy glass, a large palm covered the rim.

    “I can wait.”

    “O-oh. Okay. Um, sorry to bother you! I'll just...be over here…” with a flush of mortification on her face, Brinnie stumbled to her end of the bar. A few of the regular's at the bar laughed, causing her to stumble.

    Fuel stayed until Last Call, buying a round for everyone still in the bar. Being decreed the _‘Hero of the Night’_ by the lushes, his final tab for the evening was ridiculous. Throwing in a £100 tip for each drink pulled by all the tenders, and Fuel's payout was nearly a fourth of a standard nights earnings.

    Brinnie was smiling smugly as she counted her tips from Fuel, adding a bit of flair to her shuffling of notes as she planned a night out on the town. Alfie was also feeling pretty good, and Julian knew his coworker's wife's birthday was coming up.

    Trying to be stealthy about his tips, Julian pulled out his wallet. Setting a few notes aside for the bussers, he was sliding it back into his pocket when Brinnie snagged it. Hopping away, she had a smug look on her face. “Let's see what Tall, Dark and Sexy left for you!” Julian may have had a head start, but she pulled most of the drinks for the last round!

    “Der'mo! Give back!” Attempting to pull back his wallet, Julian was reduced to flailing as Brinnie scampered about.

    “Nu-uh, Julie!” Opening the buttery soft leather, she froze at the thick stack of cash snug in the fold. “Holy _shit…”_

    Before she could finish her thought, Julian snatched it back, glaring. “How much money I have, is none of your business!”

    “But...how!?”

    A snicker floated from the office. “Face it, Brinnie. Julian's just prettier than you,” guffed Biggles.

    Finished with his part of the cleanup, Julian pulled on his coat. Waving a goodbye, he handed the extra cash to the bussers before leaving. Faintly, he could hear Brinnie and Alfie sniping at each other as he walked off.

    Deciding on some Thai, he walked a few blocks down to his usual take-away. Walking just out the door was Fuel, shouting something back in Thai. Eyes meeting, Fuel smiled. “Hey, Sweetheart. Getting dinner? I've got plenty, if you want to join me?”

    Caught off guard, Julian stuttered a bit. “Oh, um, I was, uh-”

    “You don't have to, and saying yes doesn't mean I'll be carnally devouring you.” The leer Fuel threw the other caused a shiver to dance along Julian's spine, “I've actually got a flat nearby, and could use some company.”

    It was a very tempting offer…

    “You could pet my dogs?”

    Well, NOW he has to go.

***

    Getting his usual crab curry and a side of seared scallops, the two men bickered briefly over who would buy Julian's dinner. Losing, Julian had a mou of disappointment as Fuel smugly presented his card for payment. Leaving shortly after, Julian swears he could hear the old couple who ran the place laughing at them.

    Fuel's flat was a brisk 10-minute walk. It was in a newer, swankier building with an active security guard at the door along with an attendant inside. Getting in the elevator, Fuel had to punch in a code before selecting his floor. Arriving in a small vestibule, another code was punched in before entering.

    A Penthouse. Fuel has a Penthouse.

    Julian is surprised. Now that he thinks on it, he shouldn't be.

    Setting their food down on a table, shoes were shucked. As Fuel's first boot hit polished dark wood, the scrabble of claws could be heard. Turning the corner at top speed, two Ovcharka Bear Dogs galloped towards them. Mouths open and tongues lolling, they started doing circles around Fuel, happy whines trailing from them.

    “Who's dat? Huh? Who's dat? Is it my girls? Yes it is! And are you my best girls? Yes, yes you are!” Julian thinks Fuel has the best shameless animal-lover voice he's ever heard. “Hey! Hey! We have a guest! Say hello!” Soon, two massive dogs were on their hind legs, front paws on Julian's shoulders as they licked his face all over. Between swipes of tongue, his laughter and random Russian could be heard.

    “Sobaka! Sobaka sobaka sobaka! No! You are shchenok! Big, fluffy shchenki!” Long fingers sunk into thick, warm fur as he rubbed and scratched large heads and muscled shoulders. A few deep, rumbling _*ruff's!*_ emerged from open muzzles, sounds Julian could feel in his chest.

    With a few final pet's, the dogs were pushed back and down. Picking up their food, Fuel lead the way into a large, open living room. Heavy leather and dark wood furniture dominated the scenery, with a 72-inch curved flat screen telly mounted onto the wall. A thick rug covered the central area, Julian's toes sinking into plush wool. Hip checking a swinging door revealed an actual formal dining room. A long wooden table, capable of seating twelve ran down the center. One wall was entirely glass, the other had a large mural on it, a buffet under it. Fuel continued past it, going into a fully kitted-out kitchen. Heading over to a wooden table, he deposited their goodies.

    “The sinks over there. While you wash up, I'll get drinks.”

     Minutes later, both men were chowing down. Along with Julian's curry and scallops, Fuel had a massive amount of Phad Thai, an order of coconut shrimp, crispy fish with a chili sauce, chicken satay, and a stuffed omelette.

    Seeing Julian's look, Fuel grinned. “Big guys need big meals. Oh, and feel free to sample from me, I eat multiple times a day, so don't worry about leaving me hungry,” he bit into a shrimp.

    A whine sounded at the door.

    “No Mazel, these are not for you.” Another whine. “No, Papa will feed you later. You both ate like pigs before I went to the bar.” Two high-pitched whines, and the kitchen door wobbled as it was pawed at. “Tov, kennel!” Dejected-sounding claw-clicks were heard as the two big dogs slumped away.

    Turning back to Julian, Fuel sighed, “they act like I don't feed them! They eat a much as I do combined!”

    Time passed as they engaged in small-talk. Learning that Julian was actually in training to be a doctor (and that his _SnS_ tag wasn't just, you know, a tag), Fuel smirked. “Sooooo, what do I have to do to get a physical, hmmmm? I can pay you quite well,” leaning back he brought his socked foot up, tracing it up Julian's calf and inner thigh, moving towards the groin. A hand twisted around Fuel's ankle.

    Eyebrow high, Julian sniffed. “I'm sorry, sir, but your insurance doesn't cover that service.”

    Looking poleaxed, Fuel could only blink a few times before letting out a loud peal of laughter. Slapping a hand on the table, he curled up, a few snorts and giggles weaseling between his chortles.

     _He has a nice smile,_ Julian thought dazedly. “What do you do?”

    Wiping a few tears from his red face, Fuel let out a last few snickers. “I'm, hoo, I'm ex-military, and after I got medically discharged turned my family farm into a multi-million dollar military-grade textile production company. We're currently giving Gor-Tex a run for their money.”

    “Oh thank GOD!” Fuel looked at him funny, "I though you were a mobster." Julian blushed at the snort the other gave. “...what's your name?”

    “Oh, shit. Sorry doll-face. The name's Tiberius. You can call me Ty,” the newly-named Ty wiggled his eyebrows, “or Daddy, if you're feeling nasty!”

***

    Sitting on the couch, Julian pulled out his phone. Ty was feeding his ‘girls’, and apparently has a _Food Song_ he sings to them as he makes their meals.

    (Yes, Julian knows that simply repeating _‘Food Time! Food Time! It's your absolute FAVORITE time!’_ doesn't make it a song. Shut up.)

    Hearing the song continue on for a few more bars, he made his decision. Scrolling through his contacts, he shot a text off to his mentor:

_*Sorry, Doc. Won't be in for next few days. Got that nasty flu.*_

_*k*_

_*drnk lots fluids*_

_*sleep all day erry day*_

_*Why do you text like you're twelve?*_

_*dont tell me how to liv my lif*_

    Finished with his phone, he slid it onto the coffee table. Now he needs to construct a plan of action. It's always good to start off with a plan name.

    Operation: D.

    The ‘D’ stands for ‘dick’. Cause that's what he needs. Ty adoring his dogs, laughing at Julian's stupid joke, and just being so god damn _nice_ flipped Julian's switch so damn hard. Going for a long time without a good, gut-rearranging pounding is also _not_ helping him resist jumping the other's bones.

    “Sorry for the wait, Sweetheart. Needed to make quite a bit- _MMMPH!”_

    Julian had fairly leapt from the couch, wrapping his arms and legs around Ty before proceeding to shove his tongue down the other's throat. He shuddered, moaning as his tongue brushed up against cold steel. Large hands grasped his thighs, and he could feel the hard muscle's in Ty's arms work to hold him up. After swaying in place for a few moments, devouring each other's mouths, he could feel Ty turn and start walking. A door opened before Julian was airborne. Hitting a bed hard, he shoved himself up on his elbows and licked his lips as Ty stripped off his shirt. Pulling off his belt with a loud snap, Ty shucked his jeans as Julian started undressing as well.

    “Not that I'm _complaining,_ but what brought this on?”

    Up on his knees, a nigh-nude Julian ‘walked’ to the foot of the bed, breathing hard. “You just...you're just _so_ **_nice!_ ** And have you looked in a mirror lately?” Wrapping his arms around the other's shoulders, he twisted his fingers into thick locks. “Just, shove me face-first into the pillows and make me **bounce.”**

“I can do that,” a lecherous grin pulled sinful lips wide. “I'm **really** good at doing that.”

    With a yank, Ty pulled off Julian's underwear, the sudden force of the action sending the redhead sprawling with a squawk. Before Julian could fully right himself, a ball of fabric smacked him square in the face. He sputtered, hearing the other chuckle. Having an idea of what it could be, he was only marginally surprised when he saw a floral fishnet body-stocking.

    “Really?”

    Ty just snickered. “Just sayin’, babe, you were lookin’ like a snack in that copper number I sent you.”

    “ _*sigh*_ Fiiiiiinnnnnnnne.”

    “You don't _have_ to put it on, but…”

    Wriggling to the bed's edge, Julian was already trying to figure out how to get the thing on. It was designed to stretch, and putting his feet into the legs caused the fabric to go from looking like something a doll would wear to fitting him like a glove. As he shimmied about, Ty had disappeared into what looks to be a bathroom. Running water could be heard briefly before some shuffling.

    After a few final curses and a snapping of elastic, Julian finally had it on. It was a full body-stocking, an open fishnet sheer mesh that had floral elements to it. It had a halter front, and the breeze behind him told Julian that it was crotch-less. The slit going from the back to the front was slim, and to get it to line up in the back properly he had to pull down the front, trapping his erection against his belly.

    Ty emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a short, open robe. The dark color framed his front, showing off the tattoos and piercings on his chest, belly, and walking up his erection. In his hands was a bottle of lube and a few condom packets.

    “Damn, Sweetheart. You could probably make a burlap sack look fine. I'm going to have fun ripping that off you.”

    Kneeling on the bed, Ty hooked his hand around the back of Julian's head, melding their lips together and twisting his tongue around the others. He hummed in contentment at the spicy flavor lingering in a warm and wet mouth. With a moan, he pushed a panting redhead down, filled with the sudden urge to see if there has been enough time for the spices of Julian's dinner to alter his spunk.

    Throwing long legs over his shoulders, Ty hooked to the side the body-stocking. Licking a broad path from root to tip, he blew a warm stream of air over a sensitive head. Relishing the whimper he pulled from the younger man, he returned to licking. As the musical moans of his dessert fluttered through the air, a slick digit slowly made its way up. Deepthroating, Ty slipped a finger past a tight entrance.

    A _really tight_ entrance.

    Having to **know,** he pulled off the cock buried in his throat with a thick slurp. Looking up, he was treated to the sight of a flushed and gasping Julian. With his eyes screwed up and his fists twisting into the sheets beside his head, he could break the willpower of the most faithful Man of the Cloth.

    “Tell me, Sweetheart, have you bottomed before?” _‘Please say yes, please say yes, please say ye-’_

    “Ah, yes! I, um, I normally do. It's just, it's been awhile.” Poor Julian's face was brick red.

    Ty smirked. “That's all I needed to know,” and with that he slipped in another digit. Getting on his knees, he wrapped his free hand around a neglected shaft. Slowly pumping the other, he savored the sounds and breaths he pulled from Julian. Pushing in to his knuckles, Ty curled them up-

    “ **AH!** **_OOOH~hhhhhh!”_ ** Long leg's fell wide open as Julian arched up, not realizing until now just _how_ **_much_ ** he missed this. Belly burning in anticipation of the absolute dicking he was going to get, he shouted as a third finger was added. “Please! More!” Planting his heels into plush bedding, he started rocking back and forth on the long, thick fingers currently buried as far as they could go.

    Breathing hard, Ty withdrew slick fingers before flipping the other onto his front. Ripping open a condom, he slid the thin latex over his shaft as lust-clouded eyes begged him for more. Snuggling the band against the root of his dick, Ty popped-up lacy hips before spreading the stocking slit. Realizing the lacy mesh was clinging too closely to smooth cheeks, he growled in frustration. Before he could rip the opening wider, Julian's arms twisted out from underneath before grasping fabric. With a sharp _*rip!*,_ Ty now had something he could work with.

    Slicking up his cock, he drizzled lube over a pink entrance before lining up. With a slow push, he pressed onward and through. Once the head slipped past, it was smooth sailing to a full seating as Julian let out a needy cry.

    Julian let out small, broken sounds as he was stuffed full of a thick dick. Each time a piercing pushed past his rim, he jerked and let out sharp grunt. His toes curled at the burn of a good stretch, and he bit into the sheets below him as he sunk his fingers into anything he could grasp.

    Breathing hard, Ty tossed his robe to the side. Planting his palms on the bed on either side of Julian's ribs, he gave a wiggle. He nearly purred at the buck he got, not missing the high squeak of surprise his Sweetheart gave at having his prostate nailed.

    After a bit of shifting for traction, Ty slowly withdrew an inch or two, before sinking back in. A few more shallow thrust, and Julian was groaning each time hard metal rubbed him. On one thrust, Ty slammed in, Julian shrieking out a startled _‘YES!’._ Moving and flexing his back, hips and thighs, the sounds of sweaty skin slapping skin rang through the flat. The heavy bed frame started creaking at each roll, gaining in intensity as Julian pushed against the headboard for leverage to fuck back.

    Struggling to get on his knees, sweat poured off Julian in buckets. Trickles of wetness danced down between his shoulders before soaking into the stocking hem, and his thighs were soaked in it. Any time he licked his lips, his tongue came away with a thick layer of salt. Already he could feel the hair at his temples itch, and he had to constantly flip his hair from his eyes.

    He's never felt this stretched, this **full** before. Despite the condom, he could feel every dip and swell of the hard dick pinning him in place. And _ooooh,_ those **_piercings!_ ** Each long thrust fairly massaged his rim, a warm tingling sensation that turned into a hard rub. And each time a thick head slid along his sweet spot? That dyedo was right behind it, pressing hard metal onto a tender patch of nerves. Occasionally, the piercing would pull, making his hips jerk and a little spunk squirt out.

    But, he wanted more. He wanted what he told Ty earlier: fist his hair, shove his face into the pillows, and fucking make him bounce.

    “Please! More! I nee- **ah!”**

    Griping sweaty red locks in his hand, Ty wrench a panting head up and back. Biting the long neck bared to him, he growled low at the short but heartfelt cry he got. “Fuck, baby boy, you're so damn perfect. Just look at you, taking dick like a champ and begging for more. What can Daddy give you?”

    (Julian could ask for the Moon, and so long as he begged so sweetly and for dick, Ty would give it to him.)

    A hard sob punched itself out of Julian's chest. One hand wrapped around the top of the headboard, his other ran itself all over any of Ty's skin he could reach. “Just, please, use me! Hurt me!” He wanted to feel thick, blunt fingernails scratch burning furrows up his thighs, and for hard teeth to leave their mark on his skin. When he has his next lecture, he wants everyone to see that he was thoroughly **owned.**

    “Use you? Oh, I'll fucking use you, alright. I'll hurt you real goooood.” Shoving that pretty face into the mattress, Ty started to hammer. The bed shifted, slowly inching up to the wall. In short order, the frame was banging into plaster, colored dust snowing down. Divots were starting to appear, Ty being greatly encouraged by the howls Julian was emitting. Leaning back, he slapped a meaty palm over a pink cheek, feeling satisfaction in the sound of skin striking skin. The feeling of a tight ass getting tighter also helped.

    Julian was reduced to a quivering, crying, begging mess. His skin felt thin, unable to contain the euphoria created by matching up with someone who's appetite matched _so_ **_well_ ** with his own.

    But, he was nearing the end of his rope. He **needs** to cum. His cock throbbed in pain, needing but denied it's release and his legs burned with the effort to stay up. His head swam with a lack of oxygen, and he **burned** from the utter ravaging he was being subject to. How is he going to end this?

    Wracking his brain, Ty inadvertently gave him his answer: “Fuck, Sweetheart! I am so fucking **GLAD** I'm getting your sugar! Nadi should have tried harder…”

    Sugar. Baby boy. Sugar baby…

     _“Daddy…”_

     _Pounding_ into that sweet ass, Ty growled. “What did you, say?”

    A teary- eyed Julian sniffed. “D-daddy…” he whimpered. He cried as Ty swiftly pulled out, flipping an aching Julian onto his back. Placing long legs back where they belonged over his shoulders, Ty slid back into what he was quickly considering heaven with a hard thrust. He sighed in primal satisfaction at the shudder Julian gave, a small, quiet whine escaping the exhausted med student.

    “Please...I-, I can't...help me…”

    Rolling his hips in a hard grind, Ty latched onto the long neck below him. Sucking and nibbling everywhere he could reach, he was determined to make his mark known. One hand buried in bedding, he fisted the neglected erection trapped between their sweaty bodies, “you need help? Daddy will help. He'll give you ALL the fucking help you need.” Pushing and shifting the ass and legs below him, he started pile-driving into full cheeks, fist working hard to pull an overdue orgasm from his poor, sweet boy.

    Ripping the mesh of the suit that clung to a moist lower abdomen, Ty layed a splayed palm around the root of Julian's cock. Crooking his thumb, he pressed firmly on a slick perineum. Rubbing it in counterpoint to his thrust, he dug in-

     _“Oh FUCK_ **_DADDY!”_ ** Thick ropes of pearly cum shot out Julian's cock, his body undulating as his long-awaited orgasm finally hit. His spunk clung to a lacy chest, one hearty spasm hitting the underside of Ty's jaw. He keened high and loud, barely feeling the sensation of teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder. He bounced as Ty held him in place, arms bulging as he pummeled into an abused hole before filling the condom with his spunk.

    After a few final sloppy thrust, the entangled couple slid to the side. Withdrawing from a spent ass with a wet sound, Ty wrapped his arms around a shaking Julian. He peppered the face below him in a wild, unhinged manner, needing to show his unadulterated **_adoration_ ** to the other.

    He **won't** be letting the other go anytime soon. He has _never_ found someone who feeds into his baser instincts like his sweet Julian. If he has to pay the other's tuition in **full,** well…

    It's just money. He makes that every day.

    Feeling the other start to doze off, he slipped the ruined stocking off. Stumbling to the master bathroom, he cleaned himself off before grabbing a new washcloth. He took his time wiping the other down, taking great care to check for tears. Each sweet sigh he heard as he cleaned was like music to his ears, stored away to be brought out on a rainy day.

    Tossing the soiled towel into his laundry basket, he turned on the ceiling fan and cracked open a few windows. Only once he had a nice breeze coming through did he snuggle under the covers.

    Over in the living room, a cell phone danced and vibrated over glossy wood. Chime after chime signaling a text message went off one after another. After nearly fifteen minutes of non-stop activity, an annoyed muzzle sniffed the Box of Sound. Grunting, thick canine teeth picked it up. Heading over to the balcony, Tov dropped the phone on flagstone-paved cement. Nudging the buzzing contraption, she eventually nosed it between two bars. Grunting in satisfaction, she went back to cuddling with her sister.


	2. You ready to play, pet?

     Julian. Was going to commit _murder._

     It was hour 10 out of a 12-hour shift on the ward, and his night has SUCKED balls. Dr. Valdemar still looks like they want to wear his skin like a funny hat, and the quiet bastard keeps just, just _looming_ out of nowhere at the most inopportune times.

      _Julian had spilled an entire tray of samples all over himself._ **_URINE_ ** _samples._ Thank god he had extra scrubs, and that the hospital locker room had a few showers.

     He also only had enough time to eat a cold sausage roll and drink an O.J. for his lunch.

     Which was **_five_ ** hours ago.

     And let's not forget the many women (and not too few men) who are getting their kicks out of teasing the young, new trainee. If Matilda asks him for a sponge bath one more time…

     "DEVORAK! BLOOD DRAW!"

     That's it, he's going to go live in a cave.

***

     Oh gods but his feet hurt.

     Changing into his clothes, Julian swung his messenger bag over one shoulder. Closing his locker, he sighed as he prepared himself for a _looooong_ walk home. At this hour of the night, most of the trains don't run, so most of his journey will be by foot. What would normally be a half-hour trip will take him nearly an hour.

     Waving a tired goodbye to the nurses station, he slipped out a side door as he pulled out his battered phone. The case was scratched and dented, and the screen had a few spider cracks running along it. He'd found it on the sidewalk outside of Ty's place a few months ago, with no memory of just **why** it got there. The only explanation he had was that the dogs were playing with it and lost it over the balcony, but…

      **_*VVVVRT! VVVVRT!*_ **

_Hey, bbyboy. You wanna swing by? ;)_

      That...sounded really good. At any other time he'd be jumping on the offer (and that dick), but…

     ...he's just so **tired.**

_Not that I WANT to say no, but I've just gotten off a miserable 12-hr shift. I just want to sleep._

_Tough day?_

     This is why, right here, this is why Julian knows he's in trouble; Ty's just so damn nice. And caring. And funny.

     At this rate, he's gonna catch a bad case of the feels.

_Not so much tough as just long_

_and exhausting._

_You can still swing by_

_I'll have a nice, hot meal_

_And a foot rub waiting for you_

_And two big babies kinda miss you_

     A pic of two sets of puppy eyes came thru.

     Damn it, Ty. That's playing dirty.

_That. Is not fair._

_You are a bad, bad man._

_Come to Daddy_

_Yes, join the dark side_

_I have cookies_

_Really? That's what your going to convince me with? An outdated, mid-2000's meme?_

_Who said I was lying?_

     This time, a snap of an oven. The light inside was on, letting Julian see just enough to assume that there are, indeed, cookies baking. Both Mazel and Tov were laying down in front of the oven, watching intently.

_Baking peanut butter cookies_

_Good for both a dog and a people_

_We like to each have one b4 bed_

     That's it. This man is perfect. Julian HAS to swing by.

_Give me, like, 30 minutes. I have to turn around._

_Where are you?_

_I can send my driver_

_Rich buttmunch. I'm by Harrods._

_*peach emoji**lick emoji*_

_He's on the way_

_His names Lenny_

     15-minutes and a ride in a Rolls Royce (a vintage one! Nearly as old as Babushka!) later, and Julian was walking up the steps to the building lobby. Dan the Doorman gave him a nod as he held open the glass door, and soon an exhausted doctor-in-training was in the elevator. As it took him up, gentle flute music played quietly over the speakers, a nice relief from the muzak he's used to hearing in the hospital elevator.

     Knocking on Ty's door, he could hear the scrabble of claws and a few whines as the girls dashed down the entrance hall. He heard a loud thump as, undoubtedly, the Furry Freight Train ran into the door at mach 2 speed. Soon after, he could hear an exasperated Ty laughing at his dogs.

      _"Mazel, back! And Tov! You have better manners than this! You're supposed to be the responsible one!"_ Wrenching back the door, a mussy Ty grinned at Julian. He had his long hair up in a messy bun, riotous curls escaping willy-nilly. Dressed in worn sweatpants and a thin, faded t-shirt, he looked a bit of a mess.

     He's the best lookin' mess Julian's ever seen.

     "So uh, what's for dinner?" Julian blushed as his stomach let out a loud growl. Seven hours without food will do that to anyone.

     Ty snickered, causing Julian to blush more. "I made spaghetti earlier. How's about I finish warming up the sauce and throw in some garlic bread while you get showered up? I'll loan you some things."

     Ooooooh, a hot shower sounds _wonderful._ The one he took at the hospital was cold and quick, just enough to rinse off, really. "That. Sounds divine."

     Shucking off his shoes and bag, Julian trotted towards the bedroom. He's been here often enough that he has blanket permission to use Ty's personal bathroom (and all of the snazzy cleansing products in there!) to his heart's content.

     Stripping, he opened the clear glass, floor-to-ceiling door. The entire bathroom floor was paved in stone, and the shower 'cubicle' was very large. It had a wooden bench attached to the wall near the main shower-head, with a simple wooden stool next to it. The shower-head embedded in the ceiling mimicked a waterfall, and sluiced hot water **perfectly** over tired shoulders.

     Brushing a comb through his own light curls, he loosened up the strands before hopping into a heaven of steam and heat. He moaned loudly as scalding water hit his neck and shoulders.

     "Gotta say, Sweetheart, you're giving a man _i~deaaaaaa's!"_ Ty sing-songed as he stepped in. In his arms was a pair of silky lounge pants and a loose shirt. Settling them on the counter, he continued. "Bread's in the oven. Should be only about 10 minutes. Any requests for drinks?"

     "Not really," Julian reached out to the toiletries rack, scooping up a bottle of spicy-smelling shampoo. "I'll be fine with just water. Wine after a day like today-"

     "Got ya. And for dessert, bikkies!"

      _"*Mprglsnort*"_ Rinsing suds from his face, Julian snickered. "Really!? 'Bikkies'? We're having dog treats?"

      _"Humph!_ _'dog treats!',_ he says. Like I'm going to feed him dog food. Preposterous! As though I would feed my girls anything less than Michelin STAR quality food. Of all the nerve…"

     Julian just snickered as Ty walked out of the bathroom, grumbling the entire time like a disgruntled old man. Massaging in conditioner, he scrubbed himself with body wash as it set, catching the occasional indigent outburst as Ty 'ranted' at his dogs.

     Rinsing himself a final time, Julian quickly stepped out and toweled off. Now that the steam was starting to clear, he can smell heady, savory things. Stomach growling again, he dressed before wandering out towards the living room.

     Ty was lounging on the plush leather couch, scrolling through something on his phone. On the coffee table was a wide, shallow bowl piled high with whole wheat pasta and a rich marinara and mince sauce. On a smaller plate were a few pieces of crispy garlic bread. To finish it off was a tall, cold glass of ice water with lemon.

     "Smells _amazing,"_ Julian flopped onto the couch before grabbing the bowl. Spinning his fork, he shoveled a mouthful of rich, pasta-y goodness between his lips and bit down, moaning at the layers of flavor. _"'s really goooood,"_ he spoke around the fork before digging in with gusto. Oh, if Mama saw him talking with his mouthful…

      _Oh, you do that around this guy a LOT,_ he thought snarkily. He blushed faintly, remembering with no little embarrassment the **last** time he spoke with his mouth stuffed.

      _"*whine* *whimper*"_

     Two furry muzzles rested on top of his feet, big golden-brown eyes looking up at him. He started to feel like a monster, even though he doesn't know _why._ "Uh, Ty? Are they okay?"

     Ty just laughed, a faint ping of light reflecting off of his septum piercing. "Yeah, they're just miffed that they didn't get belly rubs when you came in-"

     "OH _NOOOO!_ I'm so sorry!" Julian sat his bowl down, quickly ruffling thick fur. "I'm such a mean, mean man! How could I forget to give you your pets!? The cruelty!" Soon, he was sputtering as wet tongues washed his face in doggy kisses.

     He didn't notice Ty taking his bowl into the kitchen, but he DID notice when the other came back.

     With bikkies.

     The girls went nuts. Tov started bouncing on her forelegs, while Mazel did a little hopping dance. Ty's cooing about his girls didn't help the situation. "Hey, babe? Wanna give them their bedtime snack?"

     Minutes later, two Ovcharka were in a corner on their deluxe, _memory foam mattress_ **_dog bed,_ ** crunching away. Julian was able to get the treats to balance on their muzzles before giving them permission to cronch.

     He himself was nibbling on a bikkie, too. It was just as Ty said: a peanut butter cookie. It had a slightly higher flour content than most others he's had, but aside from that, it was identical.

     It would go pretty good with a scoop of ice cream, actually. Especially if it was fresh from the oven. He pulled out his phone, interested in what flavors of ice cream would go best with crunchy peanut butter cookies.

     "Babe. Sweetheart. Baby boy. What on _Earth_ happened to your phone?"

     Wow. Ty doesn't need to sound **that** appalled. "No idea. Found it outside your building after my first night here. The dogs may have played with it." Besides, it still works fine.

     "...I'm getting you a new phone. And insurance. Who's your provider?"

     Julian flushed. He didn't want to mention that he was with a budget company. £30 a month was all he could afford when he first came to Cambridgeshire. "Uhhhhh…"

     "You free tomorrow? I need to get some running around done, and considering my pooches are the ones who did, _that,"_ he sneered, "it's only appropriate that I replace your phone."

     "Oh, uh, well. It's not," Julian stuttered. Ty gives him about £10,000 a month, just by default. It's enough that not only are his bills paid and foods on the table, but Julian can move into a nicer flat. He just wants to stash a little more so he can pay a good chunk of rent in advance.

     "Babe, last I checked, I'm your Sugar Daddy. Let me Daddy _allll_ over you," Ty winked.

     "Um, I'm on _*muffled*_ company."

     "...yeah, I'm putting you on my plan. They suck. Now," Ty held up his hands, fingers wiggling, "ya still want that foot rub?"

***

      _"Ooooooohhhhh that feels so goooood,"_ Julian moaned into the mattress. His hands twisted into the silky sheets gathered on the bed. "Please don't stop!"

     Ty snickered, pouring a few dollops of oil into his hands before warming it. Scooting up a bit, he started massaging it into Julian's thighs, outright laughing as the other melted under firm hands and forceful fingers.

     What started out as a foot rub has turned into a full-body massage. The way Julian had hissed before going slack when Ty started rubbing his thumbs along a soft arch was amusing, but he quickly became concerned at the slightly pained look the other had. Digging in more, he quickly felt-out and rubbed into submission knots and stiff regions. Running his hands over ankles and calves showed that they, too, were in a state.

     Julian's legs are a mess. In turn, his back must be as well.

     That won't do. Ty is many things, but a _neglectful_ Sugar Daddy, he is not.

     So, full-body massage it is. And new shoes. And maybe clothes. Along with a phone.

     Does he need a new apartment? What's he paying now? Are his roommates nice?

      _He'll see about upping his allowance…_

     Oh ho ho ho ho! Yes! Jackpot! Butt massage! He'd rather give the other a _prostate_ massage, but this will do. Julian's little cheeks are so cute! Like little bubbles. Not too big, not too little. Just the right size.

 _A small part of him wants to do a drum solo, but Julian's not been with him_ **_quite_ ** _long enough to go full weird on him._

_Yet._

     Scooting up further, Ty eventually swung his legs over and perched on the backs of Julian's thighs. It was time to work on his Sweetheart's back and shoulders, and his mouth started watering a bit.

     Julian has **_wonderful_ ** back musculature. He's fit and in shape, but it's something that obviously comes from **actual** work. He's not spending time in a gym somewhere, only doing rep's and the like to make it look like he can get shit done. Oh no no no. Julian's **earned** this. Either from slinging crates of booze or drunks from the bars. The forearms are also pretty toned, and you can only get that from hauling and moving people or things in a very specific way. The old biddies at the hospital must be doing everything they can to get the hot doc(tor to be) to help them up and about.

      _"Ah!"_

     Looking down, Ty continued to work his thumbs and the heel's of his hands up and down the spinal column. He was a little surprised to see the high flush on Julian's cheek, the bitten lip, and crinkled eye of the other staring up at him in needy embarrassment. "You okay, babe? Or…?"

     "Ah! Oh, um, I didn't mean to- that is to say I- oh, fuck it."

     Slithering off the bed like a snake (similar to the boa of that one magician guy he briefly dated), Julian scuttled to the end of the bed. Quickly grasping a set of ankles, he gave a series of sharp tugs, dragging Ty to the end of the bed.

     "Jules! What **-tug-** the **-tug-** FUCK **-tug-** are you **-tug-** doing!?"

     Getting his Daddy right where he wanted him, Julian dropped to his knees, tricky fingers wiggling past an elastic waistband. He can literally feel his mouth watering.

     "Now listen here, you little shit," Ty wound his fingers into mussed red strands, "when I ask you a quest- _oh why HELL-OOOO!!!"_

     Pulling the pants down, Julian had licked his lips before flattening his tongue and licking a wide swath from root to tip. He let out a quiet groan as Ty buried the fingers of both hands into his hair, and each time his tongue rolled over a rung of the Jacob's Ladder going up the thick, juicy dick he was about to just _eat,_ his breath hitched.

      _God, but he loves the feel of cold steel on his hot tongue._ Licking up and down a few times, he eventually wrapped his lips around a slick head before sucking. He moaned as Ty's fingers went tight and his hips jerked, a little squirt of spunk shooting out to land on his tongue. He sucked harder, slipping more cock into his mouth in his quest. His own cock and balls were high and tight, and bolts of pleasure shot through him as he started bobbing his head up and down, gagging slightly each time Ty hit the back of his throat.

     "Oh _Sweetheart,"_ Ty moaned, leaning back on an elbow, giving Julian more room to work. Fuck but if his baby boy doesn't suck dick like a **champ.** His face was flushed red, and Ty swears he can see a few tear tracks, the results of Julian's deep-throating.

     Speaking of deep-throating, Julian had gone down again, burying his nose into Ty's pubic thicket. One hand was hugging the root of the shaft, keeping it steady as Julian pulled back. Ty **_loves_ ** this look on him; bright, watery eyes, red face, swollen lips, and flecks of cum and spittle clinging to his mouth and chin.

     It just makes Ty want to, _*unf!*_ cum all over that pretty face.

     Something he hasn't done yet, because he's a gentleman who waits for permission.

      _But he really want to spunk all over it…!_

     "Sweetheart, baby boy, Julie," he panted, grunting as the other went down again. "Oh fuck but your good! Can I, just, cum on your face? You'd look fucking amazing, babe…"

     With a mouthful of cock, Julian moaned a _'mhmm'_ as he started bobbing. The vibration was especially intense, due to all the hardware Ty had installed.

     "Fuck yeah," Ty breathed. Fisting a hand firmly into red locks, he pulled Julian up and off his dick. The other resettled on his folded knee's, mouth open and panting as Ty started to stroke himself. He was so _friggin'_ **_close_ ** to popping off, he needs just a little more-

     Leaning a bit closer, Julian stuck his tongue out, like someone licking an ice lolly as he closed his eyes.

     "Oh, shit." Grunting, Ty came. Spurting thick ropes of cum, he groaned in satisfaction as they landed all over pink cheeks, reddened lips, and a wet tongue. A few shots got so far as to land in freshly-washed red curls, looking like strands of pearls scattered over polished redwood.

     Julian's cock jumped at each touch of cum on his face. It had been _so_ **_long_ ** since he let a partner finish on his face. He had sincerely forgotten just how MUCH he enjoys it, getting a faceful of musk and cum and cock. He licked his lips, moaning as his tongue brought a large gob of jizz into his mouth. He could hear Ty's breath hitch as he did so, and he went to lick at the corner of his mouth, knowing more cum was there from a vague dripping feeling. Some had also landed near his eyes, and he thinks one set of his eyelashes caught some.

     "Shit, babe. Here, let Daddy help." A thumb glided over Julian cheek, scooping up cum as it went before slipping between his open lips and depositing it on his tongue. He sucked the salty digit with a pleased moan, running his tongue up the pad. "Oh, such a good boy." His breathing jumped at the praise. He wants to be called a good boy again. "You like that? Are you Daddy's good boy? Hmmm?" He could feel Ty's nose bury itself in the hair near his ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin. Ty let out a hungry, pleased growl and Julian let out a slight whimper, cock jerking at the primal sound.

     Ty pounced. His boy was _such_ a good boy. He deserves to be rewarded. "You should have seen what you looked like, sucking me so well," he grinned as Julian whimpered again. Cradling both hands around the other's face, he licked up a hanging jaw, pushing his own cum up and into his pet's mouth before locking lips. Ty's always been a " **nasty** boy", as his ex-wife would say. Always wanting to lick and suck and finger and just be dirty in general. He was always happiest when he had buried both his tongue and his tongue and cock in the same hole. Double points if he could do all three and leave it leaking cum afterwards.

     From the way Julian had been whimpering into his mouth and grinding on his foot, his boy is just as depraved.

     "Put your hands behind your back," Ty whispered against slick lips. He felt the other shuffle, and gently started pulling him up into more of a kneeling position. "Oh, but you look so good covered in my cum," he curled his foot, rubbing the top of it against Julian's cock and balls. "It's a crime that you're not constantly dressed in it as it is." The other started panting, doing his best not to grind against the large foot pressing up between his legs. "Naughty boy, look at you, rutting against me like a bitch in heat. I bet if you weren't so…'tired'," Ty mocked, "that you would be begging to bounce on my dick."

     "Daddy," Julian tried to fight the cry that left him. His gut twisted in both arousal and self-loathing. He's been teased and taunted and mocked for his, 'sexual proclivities' before. He's had so many partners leave him in disgust at learning his wants and desires, that he's learned to hate himself. Ty has **truly** hit the nail on the head; he's begged for sex before (much to both his AND his partners disgust).

      _But Daddy treats him so_ **_good._ ** They've only had this arrangement for a little over three months, and haven't been able to lay with one another as often as either would desire. Both have demanding lives. But each time, Ty's treated him with respect. What happens in the bedroom **stays** in the bedroom. Neither holds the others kinks and quirks against the other. Teasing, yes. Using them as a weapon?

     Never.

     Ty pulled up his pant-leg, slipping his tongue inside a warm mouth as he did so. "One of these days," he muttered between swipe of his tongue, "I'm going to bounce you hard and good. Tie you up and spank your naughty little ass." He could feel Julian shudder before grinding against the foot and leg he rode harder. "Maybe even use a paddle before I fill you up with spunk, then plugging you and taking you out to dinner." He smirked as Julian gasped, hips shuddering. "You'll have to be on your **best** behavior. You wouldn't want to let the whole restaurant know how much of a _filthy,_ **_dirty_ ** slut you are, hmmm?"

     "Ahhh, Daddy!" Julian came hard with a cry. His hips jerked and twisted as he released all over Ty's bare shin, ankle, and foot. He rocked back, trembling as his hands grasped his forearms behind his back, having not been given permission to remove them. He felt Ty rain kisses all over his face, at times in places that had dried and tacky cum on it. He could also hear the other call him a 'good boy' and say he looked beautiful as he released.

     It took Julian a long few minutes to calm down somewhat. He could feel long fingers card through his hair, and Ty had wrapped around him, pushing Julian's flushed face into a muscled chest. Julian breathed deeply, savoring the heady scent of spices, vanilla and floral's that was Ty.

     Feeling an urge and seeing no reason to resist it (what with Ty already starting the _nastiness),_ Julian shuffled backwards on his knees. Before Ty could ask, he bent over low, licking from just before defined toes up over a graceful arch and top of the ankle, his tongue gathering a frankly _embarrassing_ amount of his cum. Once he could lap up no more, he reluctantly looked up, eyes hooded and face going deep red as he offered his 'treat'.

     A treat that Ty devoured in carnal delight. He growled and whispered what Julian could only hope was praise as he sucked a cum-covered tongue into his mouth. Once clean, he turned to kissing hard and deeply, trying to get every trace of his dessert he could, the actions and energy of his endeavor leaving Julian lightheaded and dizzy.

     Pulling back, a panting Ty snickered. "We're a mess. Let's get cleaned up."

***

      **_*VRRRT!VRRRT!VRRRT!* *VRRRT!VRRRT!VRRRT!* *VRRRT!VR-!*_ **

     Hand waving about before messily grasping, Julian blearily looked at his phone, wondering who the _hell_ would try to call him at this hour. Behind him, he could hear Ty snort and shuffle.

     Eyes squinting due to the bright light, Julian eventually figured out who was trying to call him.

     Fucking Prew.

     "M'babe? Whuhzzit? 'mergency?"

     Sliding his thumb to 'Decline' the call, Julian grunted a negative before putting his phone down. "Nah. 's my ex."

     Wow. Ty sat up at the utterly **loathsome** tone Julian had uttered that in. "Hmmmm?"

     Julian rolled over, scooting closer to Ty. "Prew. She, uh. We had dated for a while. Moved into my place, even." Throwing his arm over Ty's waist, he continued, a thread of genuine anger coming thru. "She just up and left me. Took all my money. She had even opened several accounts in my name. And took the rent.

     She's the reason why I even turned to _Sugar'N'Sting._ I had no money, and was going to be evicted. In less than a week, I had several thousand dollars in new debt.

     ...not long after we met, she started calling me. And its, escalating."

     The poor bastard. Ty knows **exactly** who Prew is. She took a few of the stupider Sugar Daddies for a ride before she tried sinking her teeth into Lucio. The man's dumber than a box of rocks, but has an uncanny understanding of people, and a top-notch bullshit detector.

     When he's not lying to himself, that is.

     "...first thing first, tomorrow morning, I'm getting you a new phone. I'll get you set-up on my account. And a new number, as well."

***

     Cell-phone shopping turned into shoe shopping, which turned into Julian trying to convince Ty that no, a bedazzled buttplug is NOT a requirement to living a healthy life.

     Nor are matching 'His & His' cockrings!

***

     Getting back in the Rolls (and Julian admits that he would **love** to get railed in the back of this thing!), Ty took them down to central London (bitching about the traffic occasionally). Once there, he hunted for a parking space in a car garage and got out, Julian having to jog briefly to catch up. Going down a somewhat familiar boulevard, it took Julian a few moments to remember that this was one of the boutique high-streets that he had visited while playing tourist before starting med school. Not THE high-street, but one of the (slightly) lesser ones.

     "Ty?"

     Reaching back, Ty scooped up one of Julian's hands. "Just a mo', babe. I've got the **perfect** phone in mind for you."

     Julian sidled a bit closer, feeling a bit out-of-place in his off-the-rack clothing and slightly worn-out shoes. Ty may have given him a beyond generous allowance, but he had been using most of the funds to cover his student loans and other related bills. While certainly not poor afterwards, he's about two years away from his degree; that's a LOT of repayment to do.

      _He was also sending money back home, under the pretense of landing a very well-paying job...which is_ technically _true._

     As it was, he (felt like he) looked out of place. Everyone else around him was dressed to the nines in brands he's never heard of, and were sharp enough to be used as dissection scalpels, leaving him looking like a lost orphan in his off-the-rack slacks and button-down shirt. Even Ty was looking dapper, the man was wearing a three-piece suit, sans shirt and tie. It was all black, with the vest (that was lovingly cradling and displaying some _fine_ tattooed pec's) having faint pinstripes. He also had on some heavy, white gold jewelry, such as a pinky ring with a black diamond and matching studs. Throw in some heavy boots under the finely woven trousers and long hair in a half-up, half-down style and the man was turning heads.

     Leading the way into a somewhat small but modern shop, Ty walked to the back. They passed gleaming metal and glass displays, showcasing both brands Julian's heard of, and others that were unknown but **wealthy** looking.

     Wait, was that a Porsche-branded phone…?

     "Mr. Principia, it is nice to see you again. I do hope your mobile is serving you well? I would feel awful otherwise."

     Behind a service counter that probably cost more than his entire apartment, Julian spied a young blonde woman. She was short with fine features, and dressed in a business-black skirt suit.

     Ty thumbed behind him. "It's doing well, Deirdre. I'm in the market for this gent here. He's a med student, so I was thinking of getting him the S10+. Oh, and load it up with all the usual bell's and whistles and stick it on my account."

     Deirdre quirked a finely-plucked eyebrow, a slight smirk on her glossy lips. "You usually treat your partners well, but this is new."

     Sighing, Ty motioned for Julian to pass over his battered phone. The other did so, blushing in embarrassment. Deirdre whistled. "Yeah, the girls got a hold of it and tossed it from the balcony. Soooo…"

     "They certainly did a number on it." Taking hold of it, she started looking at the screen and ports. "Hmmm, aside from the outer damage, it still works, correct?"

     Julian jumped, being jolted back to reality from his looking about. "Oh, um? Yes. It does, but the screen can get a tad, uh, unresponsive."

     She clucked. "It should be no problem. We'll start the new phone's activation and load-out. It will take a few hours, though. Is there anything on here that requires being switched over?"

     "My contacts, a few note files, email-"

     "And the number?"

     Julian frowned. While a new number would be best when dealing with Prew, his family knows this one. And considering how scattered they are (and not all of them have cell phones), it would take some time for word to travel. "I would like a new one, but, with my family," he trailed off.

     "See about putting extra privacy measures on it, similar to mine," Ty interjected.

     Deirdre nodded. "Will do. Come back in a few hours, we'll do the transfer then. I'll text you about half-an-hour before we're finished."

***

     Ty decided that it was high time that they ate, and so brunch was in order. Julian had been a bit worried that he would be dragged towards one of the fancy looking café's, but was surprised when Ty started tugging him down side-streets and alleyways. They got further and further away from the swept streets and neat shops and further and further into some, well, poorer areas.

     "Ty? Where are we going?" Julian did feel relief, being away from the high-streets. To be honest, the worn and rundown area they were in reminded him a bit of home. Kursk is a fairly large city, with its own uptown and poor areas. While his family isn't what one would consider poverty-stricken, they usually shopped in the middle-to-lower class areas just to be thrifty. After all, why spend hundreds of rubles and kopecks on something that they can get for half the price elsewhere? Just apply a bit more elbow grease and care.

     "Taking you to the best Indian restaurant this side of London- no, in all of London!"

     A few minutes and turns later, Ty was going down a narrow, smelly back alley. As they got further in, the familiar spicy smells of curry and the sweet scent of coconut started to take over. Going up to a flimsy, wood-and-screen door, he rapped the worn material several times. Shortly after, a young Indian woman opened it, eyes going bright as she saw Ty. "Tiberius!"

     "Hey, Pri! Think me and Julian here," he tossed his head back, "can get some grub?"

     "Yes, yes! I'll let Depoor know your here! _Auntie Ji, Ty's here!"_ Leading them in, Julian saw that they were now in a large, industrial kitchen. Several Indian cooks were going about, stirring large vats of curry sauce or frying up different meats. Pri steered them towards a little table off in a corner as several people called out greetings.

     "This is new. I like it!" Julian was **much** more comfortable in this setting. While the food was much different, he has fond memories of helping out his cousin's make pelmen at their restaurant.

     As they were getting settled, an elderly Indian woman in a bright sari came near, all smiles and waving hands. "Little Ty! I am so happy to see you! Come, give Auntie a hug!"

     Swooping her up into a bear hug, Ty set her down. "How'er all of ya doing? Depoor still fine? Have enough money?"

     Auntie smacked his arm. "We're fine, we're fine. Depoor's old mates come by once a week, and the other army boys and girls do as well. Now," she turned towards Julian. "Who's this lovely young man, hmmm? He's quite the handsome one!"

     Julian flashed her his trademark 'troublemakers' grin, giving his hair a slight toss. "A high complement, coming from a chrysanthemum made human!"

     Auntie crowed. "Oh, he's a good one! You should keep this one Ty! Now, what can I make you?"

     Settling on a shareable platter of butter chicken and some chai, Julian watched Auntie Ji march off, hollering in Hindi at a few others. "I quite like her."

     "Auntie is quite nice. So are her nieces and nephews."

     A young boy, about ten or so, trotted over with their tea. "Here you go, Uncle Ty!" After setting them down, he scuttled off.

     Julian raised a brow. "'Uncle'?"

     Ty just chuckled, blushing faintly. "His father, Depoor, was a Gurkha. His unit was from mainland India, but got attached to mine for joint operations. The crazy bastard's the one who dragged me out of the firefight that blew half my head off, before going back and clearing out the Al-Qaeda nest we were sent to eliminate." He sipped his tea, humming. "I returned the favor a few years later. He lost part of his leg, and neither India nor Britain wanted to claim him for care. Fucking politics," he snorted in derision. "Pulled some strings and got him and his family here, and put him up in hospital. Kind of hard not to become part of the family, after all that."

     Julian blinked. "Wait…'blew half of your head off'? What!?"

     Ty blushed deeper, a self-depreciating half-grin tugging his lips. He tapped the side of his head with a finger. "Mhm. A bomb blew off my helmet, and an insurgent got a lucky shot. About 20% of my skull was shattered, and was replaced by a metal composite plate. Also lost a bit of my brain, too." He laughed as Julian gaped at him like a fish.

     "How are you still alive!? And sa-uhhhhhh…"

     "Because this man is a stubborn asshole! Ty, you beautiful bastard, get up! Where's my hug!?"

     Julian jumped at the loud, heavily-accented voice behind him. Turning, he spotted an Indian man of average-height with the most _amazing_ mustache Julian's ever seen. As he and Ty hugged each other vigorously, Julian saw that the man had a prosthetic from the knee down.

     "Depoor! Move it! I have food for these starving boy's!" Sliding a large platter of butter chicken over basmati rice onto the table, Auntie Ji pushed Ty back into his seat while she smacked Depoor upside the head. "You want to talk? Fine! But let them eat! I'll not be having people starve under my roof!"

     "Your roof? _YOUR roof!?_ Well excuse me-!"

     "Your excused! Now, get back to the front! That no-good John is back again, and I don't like the way he's looking at Beba."

     Depoor sighed, mustache twitching. "Ahhhh, it's always something. Sorry I can't chat, you know how it goes."

     Ty 'meh'd. "Eh, text me when you've got a day. We'll have a Boys Day Out. Hug the kidlets for me."

***

     Damn near licking the platter clean, the two left a happy Auntie Ji. After being given to-go cups of iced chai milky tea, they meandered about the streets. It was only as they had crossed a street and Julian skipped over a puddle that Ty remembered the other needed new shoes. Dragging a protesting redhead behind him, the sugar daddy got them back to the high-streets, zero'ing in on a shoe shop slotted between a jeweler's and a tea shop.

     It was softly lit, and everything was done in warm, polished hardwoods. Dozens of shelves held leather boots and shoes, all of them standing upright and with delicate sales tags dangling from them. The earthy smell of leather was mixed with a slightly acrid scent, making Julian think that this shop actually MAKES the shoes they sell.

     "Aye yo, Betty, where ya at!?" Ty rapped his knuckles on the little counter near the door. Cursing could be heard from the back before a slim, tall, bottle-blond woman sporting a short undercut and dressed sharp enough to win a knife fight came to the front. She wore pipped dress pants, a vest, button-up shirt, and tie (with a tie tack), all in a masculine, military cut. In the vest pocket was what looked to be a pocket watch, and she had large, chunky rings on her fingers.

     She exuded what the kids are calling 'Big Strap Energy'. Like she could call out 'hey, babe' while grocery shopping and have several women and not too few men turn towards her.

     Julian may just have a little crush.

     "Ty!? Dude, what is UP, my man!" They gave each other a quick, back-thumping brohug. Betty had a deep voice, for a woman, and it sounded a bit scratchy. Husky. "What did ya ruin now? You just bought a pair last month. Not that I'm complaining about the extra cash or anything, but it'll give the wrong impression. Like I don't make quality merchandise!" Surprisingly, she had a thick, New York accent.

     "Hey, man, they're not for me! Sweetheart here," echoing their earlier stop with Deirdre, Ty tossed a thumb at Julian, "is in training to be a doctor, and needs some new kicks. It took me over an hour to massage out all the kinks and knots he had, from feet to shoulders."

     She winced. "Damn. Sounds like a new pair of _Brutal Betty Boots_ is in order." Taking a closer look at Julian, she smirked. "Although, you must not have rubbed out _all_ the kinks, if he's with you!" She laughed as Ty groaned in pain.

     "...that is the worst pun I've EVER heard," Julian deadpanned. He grinned. "Got any more?"

     Betty laughed. "You. You get it. I like you." She turned back to Ty. "If things don't work out, he's mine." Laughing at his possessive growl, Betty motioned Julian to follow her. "Alright, let's get crackin'."

***

     After getting Julian sat in a cobblers chair, Betty pulled out a few different measurement devices. As she knelt, she asked him questions about his usual day on the floor, where he starts to hurt first at, how long it takes **to** hurt, and so on. Along with getting the length and width of his feet, she also measured his arch, the throat of his foot, and his ankles.

     Writing her measures down, she passed over a sampler of the different leathers she uses. Each one had a color code, a texture name, and a description of any additional treatments. She mentioned that the ones she thinks would work best for him are near the back, and to start there.

     All of the materials felt, sturdy. Thick. These were good quality leathers, the type meant to last ten-years or more, with the proper care. In today's globalized market, it's difficult to find **good** handmade shoes. Julian is very determined to take care of whatever he receives. Selecting his leather choice, he passed the samples back.

     Betty tapped her chin as she squatted. Her other hand was holding up one of Julian's bare feet, twisting it occasionally. She was eyeing the overall structure of not just his feet, but whole body. "Got it."

     Watching her stride down an aisle, Julian jumped as fingers started playing with his hair. "You okay, babe?"

     "Oh, uh, yes. Just, never been in such a nice shop."

     "Betty's good. A trained Master Cobbler. She started out as a Quartermaster before getting out. _Tch,"_ Ty smiled down at his boy, "she's the one we sent the pups to when they had a Date Night coming up. She helped a LOT of the whelp's get laid!"

     Julian snickered. It was not difficult to imagine Betty getting the new guys all pretty and hyped up for a night out. "I can believe it!"

     "Alright, I'm back, you can stop talking about me." In her hands was a set of black, matte boots. They looked like a cross between an Italian moto boot and a standard European zipper boot. A leather sole, satin threading's, and soft, molded black leather. "Now, this pair I made a while ago. Miss-measured a clients foot, but eh. The sole is made from a treated and pressed leather, and is slip- and electrical resistant. The toe," she rapped her knuckles on the squoval toe, "has a steel plate. The heel has steel micro mesh. To prevent slips, the sewn-on sole has stripes of Fineline rubber." Flipping the boots over, Julian could see the dull ribbing of textured rubber. "And the leather has been waterproofed. When it comes to cleaning, just wet them down with a bit of leather cleaner and use a soft-bristle brush or microfiber cloth."

     Julian slipped them on. "Uh, where's the-"

     "Insole? I need to cut one. I just want to make sure that the length is good. Just slip one on and bend at the toe." Julian did so, digging his toes into the ground as he flexed his foot like a track runner getting into position. "Looks good. Shouldn't have issues with material cutting into your skin. Gimme ten minutes and you'll be good to go."

     15 minutes later, and a sinisterly giggling Betty came back up, a boot box in her arms. "Alright, here we go! Slide'em on."

     They fit like a _glove._ The perfect amount of padding for the insole, the width, the length...even how the leather fit around his leg was perfect! Julian quickly pulled on the other one, doing a few toe lifts before taking a walk about. "These are _amazing!_ How in the world do you do it!? These are, without a doubt, the best footwear I have EVER worn!"

     "Quilted gel-hybrid insoles, my man! Extra cushion on the heel and ball, extra support for the arch. And all of that under a layer of hydro-cotton." Betty crossed her arms, looking very pleased with herself. "Now, do ya want me to toss, **_those,"_ ** she gestured dismissively at the old, beat-up trainers Julian had worn, a sneer twisting her sharp features, "into the bin? They're not even worth the pleather that those poor water bottles died for."

     Julian took great glee in slam dunking his old, ratted, **nasty** trainers into a bin. He was floating on cloud nine, knowing that his days of cramped and twisted feet would soon be over. After doing a long, grueling 12-hour shift, he'd be able to easily dance his way home.

***

     Telling Betty to put it on his tab, Ty and Julian left the shop. Julian blinked into the bright sunlight as his eyes adjusted, the contrast between the shop and street being stark. A chime pulled him back to reality.

     Pulling out his phone, Ty flicked through his notifications. "Deirdre. Looks like your new phone is nearly ready."

     Walking down the streets, they had to dodge more shoppers than earlier. Once reaching the shop, they were greeted by Deirdre, who requested Julian's old phone to finish the activation.

     "Aaaaand here we go. Until tomorrow, any calls or messages you get may come in on both phones. Pretty normal, really," she said as she bagged-up the box and a few more odds and ends. "Aside from a laggy screen, your old phone still works fine. I suggest you keep it as a spare. You never know when you'll need to dial 999."

     Julian was only paying her half-a-mind. Ty got him a Galaxy S10+! That's an over £2,000 phone! "Ty," he hissed as the other handed over his credit card for payment. "How-, why-, this is too expensive! £2,000 for a-"

      _"Pffft._ £2,000 is nothing. Also, it's closer to £3,000, what with activation costs and them giving it a full load-out." Signing on the pin-pad, he accepted his receipts from a quietly smirking Deirdre. "Besides, this is nothing."

     Julian hissed like a kettle, heart in his throat. £3,000 for a phone!? Is the man mad!?

     "Babe, do you remember how much I dropped on you during the first week or so of us 'getting to know' each other?" They walked out the door, the chime of the door bells signaling their exit.

     "...an amount I've always thought was ridiculous. Along with your monthly stipend!" Seriously, Ty is spoiling him. He could quit his job at the Rowdy Raven and go to school exclusively, what with that stipend. The only reason he hasn't quit (and only scaled back his shifts) is because arrangements like this are never permanent, and he still wants an in if the stipend disappears.

     Ty just rolled his eyes. "Honestly, it's nothing compared to what I spend for fun," he squeezed Julian's hand within his. "Anyway, let's go visit my favorite sex shop."

      "You, have a favorite sex shop?" Julian honestly didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, it makes sense: different sugar babies had different tastes, and Ty is a man who can certainly _get it._

     One the other, how often does the man need the services of a sex shop in order to have a favorite one?

     Again, Ty led the way. Going down a few more side streets and back alley's, he eventually led Julian up the steps of _Bottom's Up!,_ the shop sporting a neon sign of an inverted heart getting a smack from a paddle with the shop name emblazoned in cursive, all of it in a bright pink neon.

     "Really, Ty?"

     "Hey, I like butt stuff. I don't remember hearing any complaints from you, ya hypocrite."

     Walking inside the brightly lit, near-windowless store, a middle-aged woman greeted them. "Well, now, if it isn't my best customer. I should just close after your done purchasing, Ty, you always put me in the black."

     Julian goggled. While no stranger to such shops, they've always been manned by sleazy old men, not women who looked and dressed like they bring coffee and lemon squares to their after-church lunches. Wearing a mint green twinset, a beige knee-length skirt, understated jewelry and well-coiffed brown hair, Julian started wondering just _where_ Ty finds all of these people.

     "Why don't you have a wander? Belinda and I need to catch up." Eyes already locked onto the absolute **unit** of a dildo up on a display wall, Julian distractedly walked over to it. _How is anybody supposed to fit that inside them!?_

     Getting over his shock, he eventually started giving the rest of the shop a look over. It was very well cleaned and maintained, a sharp contrast to others he's visited. Everything was organized according to the type of item and the 'play' it would fall under. The shop lighting, while bright, wasn't harsh or overly white, and the air _smelled_ clean. Quite a few shops end up smelling musty, rubbery, or overly perfumed with air fresheners.

     Like always, he was soon drawn into the BDSM section. While _very_ interested in their selection of leather harnesses, he stuck with what he knew (even if it was only very little). Picking up a coil of red silk rope, he rubbed his thumb up and down. **This** felt like quality; no bumps or snags, glossy, and he couldn't see any spots where someone sneakily glued two different sections together. He's pretty sure that this is genuine silk, and not cheap nylon being passed off as.

     Picking up a few bundles, he continued on. Spotting a bottle of tingly cinnamon 'massage' oil, he added that to his pile. Realizing he's interested in more than he thought he would be, he spotted a stack of hand baskets near the door. Trying to be as casual as he could, he picked one up, face going pink at the knowing chuckle Ty let out. Petulantly, Julian stuck his tongue out at him.

     As he was checking out a display of floggers (and wondering if Ty knew how to use them), he jumped as his butt vibrated. Digging out his still-shaking phone, he sighed.

     Prew.

     Sending the call to voicemail, he went back to looking. 30-seconds later, his phone started vibrating again. Sending that to voicemail, it happened another two times before he heard the familiar _*pop!*_ of an incoming text.

      _This is the first text he's gotten from her since their breakup._ Sliding his notifications, he saw she sent a series of sniffling or crying emojis. Snorting, he put her on 'ignore'.

     "Interested in our collection of calf-leather floggers?"

     Julian jumped, going brick red. Belinda had a bright, cheery voice, not unusual for a saleswoman to have for, say, a shoe shop. She smiled brightly at him, picking up the flogger he had been looking at. "It's one of my most popular ones. Fredrick and I greatly enjoy this one. Soft, but has a bit of bite."

     "How _is_ Fredrick? Haven't seen the old queen for a while." Ty was bent over one of the glass counters, looking intently at...a bedazzled buttplug!?

     "Oh, he's doing well. The twins got sick, so he's watching them so Alex can go to work. By the way, how do you like it?"

     "Looks great, I'm just wondering how quickly the metal warms." Rolling the teardrop-shaped bulb between his hands, Ty gave a little frown.

     "Freddie quite likes it. I swear, sometimes he acts badly on purpose."

     Oh. Oh no. Julian started to feel very awkward at the casual conversation between Ty and Belinda.

     Who'da think that Belinda and her husband were into that?

     "Alright, I'm sold. Julie! C'mere and pick your colors!"

     "Uh, what?" There is no way Ty wants to stick THAT inside him!

     Making a 'come hither' motion, Ty held up the plug. Polished metal in a teardrop shape, the flared handle had super sparklie stones embedded in it. "Oh, c'mon! Please?"

     "No!"

     "But, but, but there could be positive health benefits?"

     Julian just _looked_ at Ty. "As a person being trained in the medical profession, there are currently no recorded medical benefits to be had through the usage of a butt plug. Bedazzled or otherwise."

     "Emotional fulfillment!"

     Julian sputtered. "Wha-, NO! While emotional fulfillment is an important aspect of mental health, it certainly won't be had via use of a BUTT **PLUG!"**

     Ty sighed. "Okay, _fiiiiiiine._ Belinda, set it with blue stones. I'll hold onto it in case Jules gets adventurous. In the meantime, got any new cockrings?"

     Happy to have gotten out of getting his ass plugged like some kind of kinked game of 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey', Julian went back to browsing. He kept a gimlet eye on Ty, who currently had a _'who, me?'_ look on his face. Belinda came out of the shop back with a black velvet tray, voice bubbling as she went on about her newest stock.

     Feeling safe for the time being, Julian flicked through some racks of zesty lingerie. Sadly, the men's scintillating satinwear was lacking, most of them meant for jokes and the like. He knows that if he were to try and seduce Ty with, lets say, a pair of elephant-trunk undies, he'd get laughed out of the bed.

     Sighing, he went over to a general accessories section. Gloves? Eh. Lace filigree mask? Hm, could work, let's get one. Gimp mask!? Uh, no thank you. Tingly lube-, oh. Oh, this could work...

     Picking the set up, he decided a little bit of revenge was in order. Setting his basket down, Julian stealthily stepped over to Ty. Getting nothing more than a distracted _'hey, babe'_ from the man, Julian bid his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

      _Perfect!_

     Slipping his arms between Ty and whatever he was holding, with a few pinches of his fingers, Julian clipped on a set of belled nipple clamps onto Ty's chest. He had to fight briefly with the thick material of Ty's vest, but the effort was **well** worth it.

     Looking mildly bewildered, Ty looked down at himself, two bejeweled cockrings hanging from his fingers. Seeing the clamps, he chortled. Soon, he started cackling before twiddling them, making a metallic, tinny sound ring out. "Hey babe, look! Ding-dong!"

     "Oh my god, Daddy stop!" As Julian reached towards Ty's flickering fingers, he realized what he'd said. Freezing, he went redder than a brick as Ty broke out into belly laughter.

     "Daddies are such children, aren't they," Belinda simpered. "If it makes you feel better, luv, he's not the first one to pull such a thing."

***

     Ty ecstatically purchased everything Julian had picked out, along with placing a deposit for the plug and rings. Instead of paying with his card, Ty dropped cash.

     A LOT of cash. Each bundle of rope Julian had picked up was about £35, and he had somehow gotten 10 bundles. Add in the _generously_ sized bottle of massage oil and lace mask, and Ty was easily spending £400.

     The _Look_ Ty gave Julian as he added the flogger was doing **things** to him. Julian's pants were getting mightily tight, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about the more elaborate aspects of shibari and the like.

      _*ting!*_

     "Really, Ty?" Tiberius just cackled at the flat look Julian gave him as he tossed the nipple clamps onto the pile. Pretty soon, his own face crumpled into a grin, having to admit that yeah, what Ty did was pretty funny.

     As Ty chatted more with Belinda, Julian looked around the shop one last time before freezing. How did he miss **_this!?_ **

     Not even trying to be stealthy, he sidled back up to Ty after retrieving the item. Giving the still-talking man a nudge, he softly bit his lip as the other looked at him. "Umm, is it, is it too late to, ah, add something on?" The hands behind his back fidgeted, and he bounced on his toes.

     "Noooooo," Ty drawled, a dirty little smirk tugging his lips. "Did ya find sumthin', Sweetheart?"

     With a quiet huff, Julian slowly held up what he had found, eyes locked onto Ty's the entire time. He shyly grinned, hiding behind his fringe as he held up a black leather collar and leash. On the collar was riveted a golden plate, saying _Daddy's Boy._

      "Yeah. We're getting that."

***

     Julian squirmed in his seat, panting as Ty drove them back to Cambridge.

     Anything else that may have been on the agenda for the day was cut after their stop at _Bottoms Up!,_ both men a little too excited from their purchases. Getting back into the Rolls, Julian started fidgeting, desperately wanting to put on the collar.

     Which he did as soon as Ty got them on the road. Fingers fumbling, Julian pulled off any tags before buckling it around his neck, exhaling shallowly before running his hands over his neck.

     Very quickly, Ty slid his free hand over, rubbing and massaging a tense inner thigh. He went up and down the tense muscle, occasionally coming just high enough to cause Julian's breath to hitch, but not much else.

      _Oooooh, but Julian's gonna_ get **it** _when they get back._ The man looks **_gorgeous_ ** with a collar. His neck was long and sculpted, rising up from fluted collarbones and broad, muscled shoulders. And it _flushed_ so easily! Ty positively delights in making the pale, creamy skin gain color, either from joy, embarrassment, or lust.

     And he's really, _really_ looking forward to indulging in that last one. Up until now, most of their play had been largely vanilla. Sure, a little bit of slap and tickle here or there, but he'd been trying to figure out a way to bring up suggestions for some of the more... _involved_ things in the BDSM community.

     Like shibari. Or leatherplay. And wax. Maybe a bit of petplay. His sweet boy would look **amazing** on his hands and knees at his feet, the collar just proves it. And while Belinda certainly doesn't sell sub-par merchandise, Ty knows that Julian deserves a nicer, more personal, collar.

      _"Ah!"_

     He smirked. Quickly glancing over before focusing back on the road, Ty's mouth started watering as he grasped the others bound erection. He smirked more when, as he started massaging the hard, clothed flesh, Julian tried, and failed, to stifle a needy whimper. Instead, the bothered man started squirming, bringing long-fingered hands over Ty's occupied fist, trying to get more stimulation.

     "Ah, ah, ahh," Ty crooned. "You need to stay still. After all, too much wiggling can disturb my driving. It would be **awkward** to explain to the bobbies just WHY we ran off the road, hmmm?"

     "But, but I, I need…" Oh, but Julian just looked _delicious._ Bitten, glistening lips, hazy eyes set in a fiercely blushing face, chest heaving as he panted.

     Ohhhh, but he is just _so_ **_tempting._ **

     Spying an off-ramp that he knows spits you out near some old, unused pastureland, Ty switched on his turn signal. Gunning it, the classic car pulled off the motorway, purring as the engine worked in well-oil concert. The faint vibrations traveled through the frame, teasing Julian as well as the hand that is now halfway down his pants. Two turns later, and the car was speeding down paved roads onto a lazy country track. Trying to remember that **one** specific road, Ty absently slid his hand even further into a pleading Julian's trousers, fingers wiggling before slipping over a hot erection and under a tight sac, his index and middle fingers rubbing firmly at the delicate patch of skin between entrance and sex.

      _"Tyyy…!"_ Sobbing in sexual frustration, Julian grunted. His hips bucked and he gasped at the new stimulation. Soon, he was grinding down on the fingers between his legs, having tried and failed to not do so. While his release last night was satisfying (like all of his encounters with Ty), it still has nothing on getting a good dicking.

     Finding the spot he was looking for, Ty put the car in park before shutting it down. Flinging off his seat belt, he slid his seat back a few clicks before reaching towards Julian. With frantic help from the other, Julian's pants were gone, with the other being pulled to straddle Ty's hips as he reclined. Still wearing (somehow) his new boots, partially buttoned shirt, and his new collar, Julian _should_ have looked ridiculous.

     Ty thinks he looks good enough to eat.

     "Ah, Ty? What, how, I just-"

     "Sssh. You just looked, so good. And the _sounds_ you made. Damn, but Daddy needs to take care of some business." Throwing his hand behind him, he rifled through their shopping bag, pulling out the nipple clamps. Teasing one of Julian's nipples into hardness with his free hand (and **loving** the grind he received as the other twitched and moaned), he clipped it on. The shout the other gave, along with the hard twitch of the erection jutting up from the red pubic patch between long and lean legs, made something deep in Ty's chest hungry.

     Attaching the other clamp, humming at each little tinny chime, Ty started lazily stroking the other as he unzipped his trousers. A bit of maneuvering from both men allowed him to push them down a bit, and snuggle the thick, pierced cock between pink cheeks.

     In the meantime, Julian had unbuttoned Ty's vest, pushing the fabric aside to reveal pierced nipples and navel, and long, spiraling tattoos. Seeing the frankly beautiful ink-work somehow combining elements of Nordic and Ancient Roman design always, somehow, made a flicker of lust light then blossom into a full inferno. The artist was truly talented, mixing geometry, serpentine curves, and flora into a truly unique masterpiece.

     He wanted to lick it so bad.

     "Oh, Daddy!"

     Ty chuckled lowly as Julian pitched forward, burying his face into a firm chest as Ty slipped a slick finger inside a tight hole. While Julian had been distracted, Ty had slipped out his wallet, pulling out a condom and a small, single-use packet of lube, slipping them onto Julian's now-vacant seat.

      _Never go out unprepared,_ his Uncle always says. Undoubtedly, he meant that in regards to other things, but such wise advice is certainly applicable here, as well.

     Dipping his finger in and out, Ty only added a second one when Julian started shifting his hips back and forth, his trapped cock between their bellies rubbing against Ty's abs. A loud jingle rang out as Julian jerked at the second digit joining the first.

     A few long minutes of grunting, murmuring, gasping and chiming followed before Ty slipped in a third finger. He only got to pump them in and out a few times before Julian started huffing in frustration. "Tyyyyyyy. Just, please? I need it so badly…"

     Leaning his seat back a bit more, Ty put his hands onto quivering hips. "Okay. I just, need you to glove me up. Help Daddy out, babe?"

     Like a man possessed, Julian snatched the condom up, growling when the foil failed to tear at the indicated notch. He heard a chuckle when he resorted to using his teeth, spitting out the flake of foil as he pulled out the slick rubber. Back craning as he turned in such a cramped space, he fumbled about a bit before finally slipping it over a thick head. As he pushed the thin latex down, he could hear Ty sigh in a combination of relief and frustration. Before he could say anything, Julian held the cock in place before rising up and sinking down, moaning at the delightful burn of a proper stretch.

     "Oh, **sweet** boy," Ty moaned. Being inside of Julian was always a treat. So **tight** and **hot.** It took everything he had to not just start bouncing the other hard and fast. It's embarrassing how the student doctor reduces him to a young, untried buck, wanting to get to the end as quickly as possible instead of savoring the encounter. He rubbed his open palms up and down quivering thighs, listening to the sweet sounds of the other as he adjusted.

     Not long after, Julian gave a few tentative bounces. Hearing Ty's breath hitch, he started bouncing with a bit more enthusiasm, each meeting of hips causing the belled nipple clamps to ring and chime.

     Chimes which were greatly encouraging Ty. Gripping svelte hips hard, he started pushing up into the other, before pulling him down. What had started out at a slow and steady pace quickly turned hard and frantic. Each time a piercing caught on his rim, Julian moaned, and each time the other cried out, Ty thrust up harder.

     Soon, the Rolls was bouncing. The heavy metal frame groaned and creaked, like that of an old house in a windstorm. The windows had started gathering beads of condensation, and if someone had happened to walk by, they'd hear the muffled moans of two amorous lovers mixed with jingling.

     Riding the thick dick inside of him with great enthusiasm, Julian occasionally bumped his head against the roof. Once or twice, Ty tried to pull him down closer, but Julian wasn't having it. He wanted a good, hard pounding, and a few bumps of the head was a small price to pay for it.

     Both men reaching the end, Ty started jack-hammering as Julian started pulling himself off. Ty spat random words of encouragement from between clenched teeth, slurring them as he tried to get the other to the finish line.

     "Oh FUCK!" Bucking hard, Julian spilled into his hand with a shout. Thick, pearly liquid shot between his fingers, landing on Ty's stomach as the other grunted, shouting hard as he pulled Julian down firmly, grinding up into the suddenly, staggeringly tight hole clenching around him. Oh, but he wishes he could fill his Sweetheart instead of a lowly condom with his spunk. He just **knows** Julian would look fan-tas-tic with his ass leaking Ty's cum.

     Julian flopped over, burying his face into Ty's neck as he shook. He mouthed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses into the skin he could get to, winding a set of long fingers into Ty's long hair. Ty turned, kissing the other languidly as they came down from their high.

     While it's important that he gets Julian back to Cambridge (for the other has an important lecture to get to, tomorrow morning), Ty can indulge in post-coital snuggles for a little while longer.

***

     Watching Julian sleep, snuggled between Mazel and Tov, Ty took a sip of his beer. He was leaning against his doorway, long hair left loose to dry after their shower. Julian had only removed his collar when they had stripped, keeping it on even after their play.

     It looks good on him. **Real** good. Good enough that Ty's contemplating getting a nicer one made for him. He'll need to get in touch with Lucio for that, he hasn't met someone until now that makes him want to own them, and the elder blond has had a series of 'pets' over the years.

     The girls could also do with a playdate. It's been awhile since they could play with Lucio's Borzoi, Mercedes and Melchior.

     Hearing a buzz, he looked for the source. This is the first time Julian's stayed the night for two days in a row, and he doesn't want some _jack_ ** _ass_ ** disturbing his boy's sleep.

     The dogs started snuffling and chuffing, with Tov quickly standing up on the satin sheets. Her chuffing growl led Ty to the source; Julian's phone.

     Grabbing it, he saw a series of texts from an unsaved number. Giving the phone a flick, the screen displayed the messages. Frowning at what he saw, he left the room, hearing Tov settle back down. Pulling out his own phone once he reached his living room, he saved the unknown number along with the one listed as Prew. He has a sneaking suspicion that she's the one using the new number to get under Julian's skin.

_What do you want at 2am? Julian's sleeping._

_Who is this!? How'd you get this number!?_

_That's not important, Prew. What IS important is your bothering Julian._

_Stop it._

_Hmph! You obviously know him, so put him on._

_I need to speak to him._

_No._

     A series of texts followed, all too quickly for Ty to read, but he got the gist; Prew's mad.

     Oh well, so sad.

_Listen, I NEED to speak to him!_

_No you don't._

_Listen here, what our business is, is our business. And that is business between a girlfriend her boyfriend._

     Ty barked. Girlfriend!? Bitch, please.

_That's not what he told me._

_And just WHO are you? From the way you text, you MUST be a man. Did poor, sad Julie drink himself to sleep again?_

     Okay, fuck her. No pulling his punches.

 _I'm his_ **_boy_** _f_ _riend._

_Sugar Daddy, if you want to get technical._

_But, I've decided to keep him. He's so sweet._

_(Typing)_

_…_

_(Typing)_

_…_

_(Typing)_

_…_

_@$!#;; &_/=÷×! _

     Wanting to rub salt in the wound, Ty snapped a quick and dirty selfie. Making sure to get not just his face but much of his bare chest into the pic, he quickly sent it.

_*selfie.jpg*_

_Gotta say, my boy scored quite the upgrade, eh?_

_FUCK YOU!!!_

_Keep dreaming._

_Bitch._

     No other texts followed. Going back to Julian's phone, he navigated to the 'Privacy' menu, selecting the option to block all unknown numbers. He'll need to show Julian the more advanced security features and how to add calls or texts from family or desired companies to the white-list.

     Right now, though, he's going to try his damnedest to make the Wench jealous. Because, seriously?

     Fuck Prew.


End file.
